Ballet of Kings and Dolls
by Mirai Kurosaki
Summary: A doll claimed Wolfram's affection before Yuri arrived. It wants it back and much more. A Wolframcentric tale. Yuri/Wolfram.
1. Prologue

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

A/N: Hello all and thank you for taking an interest in this new fic of mine.

Notes about this fic:

1) This is a progressing Yuri/Wolfram story

2) Time wise, the story takes place before the end of the KKM series

3) "**-x-X-X-**" refers to a scene change

4) _Italics _in dialogue are an emphasis on words but otherwise are thoughts

5) Words in **bold** in the story are letters

6) There is reference to the Great Demon Kingdom Alliance but no mentioning of the boxes

**Spoilers**: In the prologue, none. However, Ken Murata's identity and Greta's presence will be constant throughout the story's chapters (beginning with Chapter 1)

**Warnings**: Very light graphic description

The story was inspired by my two porcelain dolls. They are as frightening as they are lovely.

**Important Note: **This is just a prologue and it takes place before Yuri arrives. Yuri will be in the next chapter, if you readers are curious for more. This story focuses on Wolfram.

There is also a lemon/lime poll at the end after the prologue.

**-x-X-x-**

Wolfram's face tightened as the bandage was wrapped much too tightly for his liking. The healer secured the wrapped hand with an effective knot before gathering her items and proceeding to the next patient.

Wolfram's unit was ambushed as they had entered the village.

The battle was gruesome and many lost their lives, including the many hostages and civilians in the village.

In retrospect, Wolfram concluded that the battle could have been utterly avoided and the village and its civilians would have survived. A disturbing sensation, a mixture of repulsion and fury, entered into his stomach and he worried that he may vomit.

"Sir, are you doing well now?" a soldier asked as he rushed toward Wolfram.

Glancing to his side slowly, Wolfram surveyed his comrade. "Fine," he breathed, stunned at how ragged and raw his voice sounded as the words crossed his lips. "What's the damage?"

"The enemy has been completely wiped out but it didn't turn out so well for our side, either," the soldier replied sullenly. "Those that escaped the village are beginning to return to inspect their homes…"

"And find the bodies of their loved ones," Wolfram finished, shutting his eyes tightly. He steadied his reeling mind and inhaled a deep breath of air.

"Sir?"

Cautiously, Wolfram stood with a slight grunt. "I'm going to see what's left of the village. Send a report to Gwendel," he instructed with a grave tone.

"Of course, Sir."

As the soldier scurried away, Wolfram brushed pass the tent's opening. His eyes narrowed as various civilians returned to their homes, their feet dragging. The devastation of the battle manifested not only in the debris but in their eyes.

Upon a quiet sob, Wolfram stiffened and hunted down the source. An older man slouched and knelt beside what were the remnants of his house. Sniffing, the man extended his arm and thrust aside the many wooden fragments.

Wolfram approached him, keeping a close distance behind the slouched man. The sound that erupted from the poor man was enough of a suggestion to what he had just discovered.

"My daughter," he moaned and stroked aside long stands of a girl's hair from her torn and battered face. "She looks like she's sleeping…"

Quickly, Wolfram came to the child's side and searched for a pulse. He frowned and stood, not needing to express the results of his findings. The man's sobs heightened as he cradled the body of his daughter.

"Let her rest in peace," Wolfram whispered, shaking his head to calm the rage. Leaving the man, Wolfram examined the area, trying to ignore the other sobs and cries that began to increase upon the findings of bodies.

"Wolfram!"

Turning around, Wolfram bit his lip as Conrad hurried forward after leaping off his horse. "Lord Weller," Wolfram muttered, not desiring unwanted attention.

"I heard about the ambushed. Are you hurt?"

Wolfram spun away from his half-brother and growled, "My pain can't compare to theirs."

Frowning, Conrart inquired, "How many civilian casualties so far?"

"Plenty."

Scanning the area more meticulously, Conrad breathed, "It's horrible."

Wolfram snorted and stormed away toward another part of the village.

Conrad departed from Wolfram, entering a burnt building.

Once reaching the crumbled homes, Wolfram, along with other soldiers, began hurling the debris aside, searching for possible survivors and dead bodies. Using muscle born from training, Wolfram shoved aside a cracked beam.

Panting, Wolfram crawled over shattered bottles and personal belongings, finding no bodies yet. Briefly returning to the aftermath of the battle, Wolfram studied each individual. Some stood over bodies, tear-stained, while others expressed the full extent of their sorrow by crumbling to the ground. It was then Wolfram realized how most of those in mourning were older.

"You!" Wolfram shouted to a soldier, "How many casualties are children?"

The soldier stood silent as if calculating the number. "Children were the highest casualty. They were all gathered during the time of the attack in a building for some event. They were trapped when the enemy set the place on fire."

Clenching his teeth, Wolfram instructed, "Which one?"

Following the soldier's finger to the place Conrad had entered, Wolfram abandoned his search once confirming no bodies were present in his area. He strolled to the burnt yet still standing building.

"It's not pleasant, Wolfram," Conrad warned as he came out, though he knew Wolfram would enter regardless of the severity of the situation.

Wolframs brushed pass the brunette and cautiously stepped into the building, hissing at the horrid stench that permeated throughout the room. Covering his nose with a hand, Wolfram surveyed the countless burnt bodies of children, their eyes shut. Wolfram assumed Conrad would have shut the eyes of any open ones and the blonde was silently grateful.

A pitiful sound reverberated through the room and Wolfram failed to realize it was his own voice. Stepping over the bodies, Wolfram stood in the middle, suddenly struck with a hurricane of emotions and sensations.

He went numb.

"We failed," Wolfram whispered to himself. "What kind of men are we that we can't even protect children?"

A lonely tear trickled down Wolfram's face though he was unaware of its existence. Releasing a shaky breath, Wolfram quickly inspected the area for anything that may suggest a living being, though he doubted it since Conrad had already surveyed the place. Still, Wolfram searched.

A scarlet article of clothing caught his eye.

Hurrying, Wolfram grunted as he pushed away obstacles to reach his target. Kneeling, he removed a tattered curtain, mentally preparing himself for another body. His breath caught in his throat.

It was a doll.

Her size was half that of a toddler's and her eyes were the iciest shade of blue Wolfram ever witnessed. A curiosity sprang into Wolfram from unknown origins and he took the doll into his arms, noting the porcelain material that she was crafted from.

As the dust particles vanished, it revealed her silky scarlet dress and the frilly white ruffles that stuck out beneath it. She expertly wore a matching bonnet and carried a bow around her pale neck.

Wolfram nearly laughed. There, many children lied, lifeless, and here was this doll; unharmed and untainted not even by the smoke. "To think a doll had more tenacity to stay unharmed," he hissed to himself, analyzing the doll more carefully. She had no cracks, no broken limbs, simply a crooked bonnet and bow. Wolfram brushed away tiny scraps of debris.

"You're a memory of this wretched day, doll," he said to her. "You're also a memory for those who have died here, both civilians and soldiers. If I cannot find the parents of the child who owned you, I shall keep you."

The doll's eyes stared blankly at him.

Wolfram's lips twitched into a sad smile. "Do you have a name?" he asked, teasingly.

A sudden breeze broke through the building, sending a chill through Wolfram's nerves. A sound like a tender voice entered Wolfram's mind. Glancing about, Wolfram was unsure as to where the wind had conjured it or if it was a figment of Wolfram's imagination.

He returned his eyes emerald eyes to the doll. Perplexed and stunned, Wolfram softly repeated the words that had entered his mind.

"Miss Maiden."

**-x-X-x-**

_Her name is Miss Maiden,_

_She's pretty as can be,_

_She'll be your closest friend_

_And will keep you company._

_Her name is Miss Maiden,_

_But I'll tell you what she said,_

"_Don't you ever leave me lonely,_

_Or you'll surely end up dead."_

**-x-X-x-**

As mentioned above, chapter 1 will return to the "present" time with Yuri and the others.

The summary about outgrowing the need to be love comes from Frank A. Clark's quote, "A baby is born with the need to be loved and it never outgrows it."

**My** **request: Lemon or Lime?**

There will be sexual scenes in later chapters and I've decided to consider you readers' input. Do you prefer a full-fledged lemon scene or something more subtle, such as lime? In case you forgot, lemon is graphic while lime is implied (at least in my terminology).

If you decide to review, which I hope you do, let me know your preference, please.

Thanks for reading this and you can expect the chapters to be longer if this story continues.

Cheers,

Mirai Kurosaki


	2. See Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

A/N: Thanks to those of you who reviewed the prologue. I was very grateful.

Response to reviewers:

**Blueyes125:** Thanks for reviewing, number 1 reviewer! I'm so flattered that you think the story is already coming along great. It will certainly be easier to understand than my other KKM fic so I hope people like it! Enjoy chapter 1!

**dess: **Hello and thanks for reviewing. I doubt I'm the best but because you say so, it makes me giddy. I'm still improving and I like this story the best thus far. I like the creepy poems too so expect another one at the end of chapter 1!

**Lina: **Thanks for reviewing another one of my stories! I really hope you grow to like it and enjoy!

**secret: **I'm glad you see this as a "different" sort of story. I have a lot of strange ideas but mostly apply them to other things but I figured why not on KKM? I hope you enjoy as the story develops. Thanks!

**Thacha**: Ah, dolls are scary indeed. I absolutely love the horror movie Dolls and this story was partly influenced by the movie. Do enjoy chapter 1, okay? Thank you again.

**Ghaile: **Don't worry about not replying to emails. I can always talk to you via yes? I'm so delighted that you're excited about a new fic. It is much simpler to follow than the other fic so enjoy!

Enjoy the story and thank you for reading.

**Warnings: **None at the moment

**Spoilers: **Ken Murata's identity, Greta's presence

"I hear you calling and it's needles and pins. I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name." -Poison by Alice Cooper.

**-x-X-x**

Jump.

"Her name is Miss Maiden,"

Jump.

"She's pretty as can be."

Jump.

"She'll be your closest friend."

Jump.

"And will keep you company."

A cracking voice interrupted the girls' singing. "Her name is Miss Maiden, But I'll tell you what she said," an elderly man sang, " 'Don't you ever leave me lonely, Or you'll surely end up dead'."

The girls paused and craned their heads to examine the man. "You know Miss Maiden?" one asked, eyes brightening at the doll the elder held.

"Well, Miss Maiden represents all dolls. Did you know, children, that every handmade doll is as real as you all?" the doll maker inquired, his goofy grin coaxing the children of the village to approach his shop.

The girls, along with a few other children surrounding the area, shared perplexed expressions as they gathered outside the shop, where the doll maker sat in a wooden seat. Upon his lap sat a lovely doll, her lips lacking a smile. The doll maker raised the doll's hands and ordered a dance for the children to witness.

Continuing with his tale, the doll maker insisted, "Yes, just like this little one right here. Dolls, too, require the basic need to be loved. Each doll has her own personality but they all want a home."

"Do they talk?" asked a child with braids.

The doll maker chuckled. "You don't need to talk to show someone you love them, do you? Of course not but I'll tell you this secret. When no one is looking, dolls come to life and they move around."

Gasps of approval and wonder stalled the doll maker.

"However, children, dolls can be demanding," the old man declared, silencing them with a promise for more. "You mustn't leave them alone for too long or they become mischievous. Yes, they certainly have caused some trouble in the past."

"Why would being alone make them like that?" another girl questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration but her eyes wide with excitement.

At this, the doll maker paused and leaned in closer. The doll upon his lap sat still, her dance complete. "Why, young child, a doll can grow very jealous and do you know what jealousy does, children?"

The children all shook their heads silently.

"Jealously kills."

A low mumbling of astonishment echoed throughout the crowd that the children had formed.

The doll maker nodded as if to emphasis his point. "Oh yes, I bet at this very moment a doll is out there, causing all sorts of trouble..."

"Really?"

Staring up at the sky, the old man smiled contently and continued the verse of the rhyme.

"Her name is Miss Maiden

And she's begging you return

But if you decide to leave her

A deadly lesson you will learn."

**-x-X-x-**

Here she resides, isolated from the world, confined within a closet. To think she would be restrained by something non-threatening and yet so effective. It infuriated her and insulted her otherwise fabulous capabilities. Not that any living being was aware of them, that is.

Regarding the closet, it is not surprising that said closet lacked any qualities that could allow one to dub it as cozy. It was lonely, filled with dust particles and insects who had decided to take up residence there, which was quite ironic in that they, however hideous, at least provided some sort of company. The maids never were capable of entering the closet since the room was inaccessible to everyone and she was practically obligated to tolerate the bugs ever since she realized this fact.

That is, of course, with exception. The owner of the room was the room's sole key. However, that is not to say he occupied the empty space that is his room on a frequent basis. In fact, it had been far too long since he had returned.

She was not certain how long she would be required to wait until the time came to be reunited with her close companion. It was an ordeal she would endure for too long. At first, the minutes had grown into hours. The hours had then grown into days, days into weeks, weeks to months, and then one year hit.

But patience rewards those who wait.

Today, he returned. He burst through the doors but was not alone. No, he was with another boy who rushed in from behind. This new fellow had the darkest shade of eyes and hair she had ever seen. Though the closet didn't provide much of a view, the crack of light allowed just enough of a visual for her.

Her icy eyes continued to stare, as they always did and she could sense something powerful about this stranger.

She listened.

The golden crowned boy, whom she knew to be Wolfram, panted, supporting his weight with the use of the darkly colored wall. For a brief moment, his breath hitched as a laugh escaped, matching the one that came from the boy beside him.

Hunched over, the dark haired boy smiled sheepishly and glanced at Wolfram. "You realize Gunter is going to be furious with you for kidnapping me?"

"Forget him," the ex-prince demanded as he flicked off unwanted dust from his pressed uniform. "Don't hunch over when you're catching your breath, Yuri. It's bad."

Yuri blinked, confused, but obeyed. His back cracked delightfully as he stood straight up and the Demon King stretched. "Well, talking about this grand ball isn't all that exciting anyway," he admitted.

After a quick shrug, Wolfram settled onto the bed. "Well, you'll be safe here. I lock my room with magic that surpasses that of most demons. Conrart will handle Gunter," the blonde clarified, indulging in the nostalgic items that occupied his room.

"So this is your room," Yuri murmured, eyes curious. His fingers had already begun brushing over the dusty bureaus. "I guess you were right about no one coming in. It's dusty."

A slight snort escaped Wolfram. "I prefer to clean it myself. I don't want others touching my property."

Yuri glanced at Wolfram. "You'd think that would be something Conrad would say."

"Why?"

"Well, isn't usually the middle child who feels the need to possess something? The oldest is, well, the oldest and the youngest is the baby. What does the middle child have?" inquired Yuri.

Wolfram's face dropped, his interest fading. "Our family is a bit different, you realize…"

Yuri contemplated this. "Eh…Guess you're right." It was then a faint blush crept throughout Yuri's face. "You don't sleep here often, huh?"

Wolfram frowned and pierced Yuri with an accusing stare. "Of course not," he began, crossing his arms. "I have to take care of you after all. I'm your fiancé."

_No._

A loud thud caused the two boys to jump, their conversation forgotten.

"What was that? You think Gunter found us?" whispered Yuri, terrified of being captured by the mundane clutches of Gunter and the royal duties that would accompany the capture.

Wolfram kept his body calm but clutched the hilt of his blade as a precaution. "I doubt it," he mumbled, staring at the closet. "I think it came from here."

With a few cautious steps, Wolfram approached the closet and swung the doors open in one swift movement. His eyes widened but out of astonishment rather than fright. His mind temporarily froze and the only action possible for him was to stare.

He must have been silent for a long period of time because Yuri was by his side and tapping him, requesting his attention. "Huh?" said Wolfram, not hearing the other boy.

Yuri repeated, "I asked you what was wrong."

Bending over, Yuri lifted a doll from the blankets that had apparently fallen with the doll. "Hey, look at this. She's gorgeous. Er…she wouldn't happen to be yours, Wolfram?"

A thick lump prevented Wolfram from replying. He took a moment to swallow it and gather his wits. "A-Ah, yeah…She's…Miss Maiden."

"Miss Maiden?"

Wolfram shook his head and clarified, "Her name. It's Miss Maiden."

"I…didn't realize you had such a…"

The glare that Wolfram shot at Yuri was enough of a warning and the double black was quick to adjust his statement.

"-Er…nice doll. She's porcelain it seems. Where did you get something so nice?" Yuri questioned further, dusting off the doll's clothing to reveal the brilliant colors beneath.

Slowly, Wolfram raised his hands and removed the doll from Yuri's fingers. Tucking Miss Maiden into his chest, Wolfram murmured in a low voice, "I found her…"

Yuri smiled at how compatible the two looked. Though, he admitted, it was strange to see a boy possessing something so feminine, Yuri silently deduced that Wolfram was a special case. It was after some time surveying Wolfram's expression that Yuri's smile faded.

Wolfram looked…sad.

"What's wrong Wolfram?"

Wolfram's fingers tightened around the doll. "It's nothing," the blonde whispered.

Not convinced, Yuri pressed, "If something's bothering you, Wolfram, you can tell me. I won't tell."

The arms around the doll relaxed and Wolfram eventually lifted his eyes, sharing his appreciation through them. Staring at Yuri resulted in Wolfram's daze to shatter. It was then replaced with a quickening of his heart and a tickling warmth that sent chills through his veins.

Yuri observed as Wolfram's lips parted to speak but the blonde faltered. A sympathetic smile painted itself onto Yuri's face. "You know, Wolf-"

Wolfram's head snapped to attention as a knock plastered itself on the doors to his room. Whatever sadness lingered was cast into oblivion as the ex-prince motioned for Yuri to keep silent, just in case it was an unwanted guest.

After a few seconds of silence, Conrad's voice broke through. "It's me. Gunter has settled down and is occupied."

Yuri released a tight breath he had been holding and went to the doors. "How do I open the doors?" he asked once realizing the magic that sealed them shut.

Raising an eyebrow, Wolfram stated, "You can open it from inside."

"Oh."

Yuri grinned when Conrad stepped in, his demeanor unaffected by the stress that Gunter had, without a doubt, upheaved. The brunette shut the door and addressed the pair. "I assumed you'd be here. You're safe to come out though."

"Yeah?" asked Yuri.

Conrad nodded and added, "No more arrangements for the ball will be made today."

In triumph, Yuri released a soft cry of joy. "I'm so relieved."

In the process of settling his eyes on Wolfram, Conrad's interest was piqued by the captivating colors upon Miss Maiden. His gaze was quick to focus on the doll, his eyes reflecting something ambiguous and Yuri could only follow Conrad's line of sight.

"That doll," murmured Conrad in an unusually lowered voice. "Is that…?"

Shifting the doll to one arm, Wolfram nodded. "It's Miss Maiden," Wolfram confirmed and lifted the doll to exaggerate his statement.

"Ah, so you must know about the doll, huh?" Yuri inquired, suddenly feeling that he was the only one in a cheery mood. The brothers shared an expression that was borderline haunting.

Wolfram answered, "Conrart was in the same place where I found the doll."

"Oh," was all Yuri said, unsure of how to extend the conversation without thickening the tension that was already suffocating them all.

Conrad was quick to notice Yuri's discomfort and he smiled reassuringly. "Shall we go, Your Highness? You could probably do with some food and Greta has been waiting for you to leave your duties," Conrad suggested.

The mentioning of Greta brightened Yuri's face. "Yeah, sure," he agreed and was eager to leave the room but when he failed to hear the clicking of Wolfram's boots, he turned back around.

Wolfram caught Yuri's frown and he spoke before the other boy could probe. "I'm coming."

As the doors to his room shut, Wolfram cast his magic upon it before following his half-brother and fiancé with Miss Maiden settled beneath his arm.

Yuri noticed this and asked, "Any reason you're bringing her?"

"I'm going to give her away."

The proclamation startled Yuri. "What? You don't like her?"

Wolfram did not even spare Yuri a glance. "I don't require her anymore, is all."

"Why not then give her to Greta?" Yuri offered, his smile indication just how proud he was of the suggestion.

"No."

At the harsh bite beneath the word, Yuri repressed a flinch. "Huh? But why no-"

"Yuri! Wolfram! Conrart!" a voice cheered, followed by the rapid footsteps of a child bounding up stairs.

Yuri peered down the stairs and grinned. Kneeling unconsciously to receive a hug from Greta, the Demon King said, "Hey, Greta. We were just on our way to join you for food."

Greta pulled back and pouted. "You were taking a while so I wanted to see if you were really done with your duties."

Releasing Yuri, Greta drew close to Wolfram in offering of her hugs. However, at noticing Miss Maiden, she squealed in childish awe. "Oh, wow, Wolfram! She's beautiful! Is she yours?"

Wolfram faltered, mind rushing to formulate words. "A-Ah…I was…planning to give her away," he admitted and his brain slapped him in response. He made a bitter note to think before he spoke.

"Really? Do…I mean, if you don't have anyone in mind, could I have her?"

Greta's countenance and body language shattered Wolfram's heart. Before his rationality caught up to his moving limbs, Wolfram had already rested Miss Maiden into the outstretched arms of Greta. "Take good care of her, okay?"

Well, so much for his note taking skills.

"Oh, wow, Wolfram!" cried Greta, planting a kiss upon Wolfram's hand. "I promise to take really good care of her! Thank you so much!"

Yuri smiled and peered at Conrad, whose face held a dismal glower. "Is something the matter?"

Conrad blinked out of his state and assured Yuri with another charming smile, "Ah, I'm fine, Your Majesty. Let's all go get some food now, shall we?"

Wolfram stood still for a brief moment as the three went ahead down the stairs. His eyes, somewhat glazed, were fixated on Miss Maiden, who's head was comfortably settled upon Greta's shoulder.

Miss Maiden's icy stare had transformed into an icy glare.

**-x-X-x-**

The rest of the day had occurred in a series of flashes. There was training to be done, other duties to be executed, and of course, family bonding over later meals. For Wolfram, however, no activity was capable of quieting his thoughts and he felt like a stalking zombie.

Even as he settled into Yuri's bed, who had forcibly gotten accustomed to the action, Wolfram was restless. Craning his neck, Wolfram concentrated on Yuri changing in hopes to distract his mind.

Yuri froze, sensing someone gawking, and peeked back. "Er…Wolfram…You're staring."

"Oh," Wolfram mumbled, snapping out of his stare with a light blush.

"Are…you okay, Wolfram? You've been acting slightly off ever since you've found that doll. Oh, are you upset that you had to give her away?" Yuri asked, tugging on his night shirt.

Huffing to conceal his hesitance, Wolfram announced, "No, of course not. It's just been one of those days. Tomorrow will be better."

Yes, he told himself. Tomorrow things will return to normal.

Yuri hummed in contemplation and crawled in beside Wolfram. "You know, I'm really glad you gave Greta Miss Maiden. She's so happy. While you were training, she visited the Tomb of the Great One and all the priestesses adored the doll. Even Murata found her appealing."

"She is happy," Wolfram repeated as if to convince himself. Much earlier, both Wolfram and the double black had accomplished their daily routine of keeping Greta company until she fell asleep and Wolfram recalled the peaceful smile their daughter maintained even in sleep. Miss Maiden was, of course, slipped in right beside Greta, adding a new sort of comfort to the bed.

Nodding, Yuri settled under the sheets. "Yeah…It's somewhat funny, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"How we…er…act like this family ever day," Yuri breathed, his face growing hot.

Wolfram snorted and shook his head in annoyance. "Of course we're a family, you wimp! What else would we be? Greta sees us as her fathers and she's our daughter. You're such a dolt sometimes…"

Yuri grumbled, "Don't call me that."

Their eyes met and their irritation faded, quickly to be replaced with small smiles of amusement. By this point in their relationship, it was difficult for them to express pure frustration with one another, though there existed the occasional jealousy rant taken too far.

The moment was tainted quickly, however.

Yuti, who feigned a cough, tore his eyes away. Wolfram frowned and his eyes cast down. Though he appreciated Yuri's friendship, the notion that Yuri only considered him as a close comrade whom he would just happen to marry, angered and frustrated Wolfram.

There were also the various soldiers and royals from other countries who openly flirted with Wolfram and even Yuri, further infuriating the blonde. The blonde was well aware that others were beginning to doubt the tenacity of their marriage. Yuri did nothing to strengthen their bond and Wolfram was growing tired. Surely, he was doing his part but how much longer could he carry Yuri's load?

He could not physically keep Yuri by his side forever, could he?

_Maybe we should discuss it_, Wolfram thought, stealing a look at Yuri, who was busying himself with finding a comfortable position.

Though before Wolfram was able to bring up the matter, a gentle knock startled them.

"It's me," whispered a tiny voice, undoubtedly belonging to Greta.

Yuri frowned and requested for Greta to enter. "Greta," he began as he coaxed her to the bed. "What's wrong? It's very late, you know."

Wolfram shifted to the side, allowing Greta to be lifted and settled in between them. "Did you have a nightmare?" questioned Wolfram with a tender voice.

Greta sniffled, her eyebrows furrowing. "No," she mumbled.

"What is it?" Yuri asked again and then noticed Greta lacking her new doll, which she had been clutching all day. She had taken the doll to every location she went, including the baths. To Yuri, sauntering over to the Demon King's room would be no exception.

Greta lifted her finger up, revealing a nasty gash that was in the process of oozing blood.

"Greta!" shouted Wolfram, clutching the thin wrist.

Yuri leapt off the bed automatically and rummaged through the drawers, where he knew some medical supplies were kept. "What happened?!" he demanded with an overly dramatic voice. He returned and began wiping the blood off before sumoning his healing abilities.

Greta remained silent for a brief moment and the boys suspected she was conjuring up a proper answer. She stared at her finger and her voice was disturbing as she disclosed what had occurred.

"Miss Maiden bit me."

**-x-X-x-**

_My name is Miss Maiden_

_You have disappointed me_

_You think I've gone away_

_But I will not let you free_

_Yes, I am Miss Maiden_

_I'll strike you from above_

_I will kiss your bloody cheeks_

_And will kill the one you love_

**-x-X-x-**

Well, I'm aware there was not a lot of Yuri and Wolfram action but please understand, I also have to set up the main plot, involving Wolfram's psychological state and Miss Maiden.

Don't fret though. I also want to be realistic about their relationship and take it somewhat slowly.

Regarding the other characters, yes, they will be in the story. I didn't want to introduce so many characters in one chapter so that's why I kept it to four (five if you include the doll).

There's plenty more to come so leave your thoughts before you leave.

Mirai Kurosaki


	3. Charm Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

**Charm Me**

**A/N**: Thanks to those of you who are finding this story interesting! I hope you get more into it now that part 3 has arrived!

Response to reviewers:

**Lina**: I apologize for not including you when I originally posted this! I missed you so I'm so sorry! Anyway, thank you again for reviewing! Your reviews I always look forward to!

**b: **I also apologize for not including you in the original post with a response to your review. Thank you so much for reviewing and I apologize again!

**akiray: **Thank you for taking the time to review! I appreciate it. I hope you find tings more interesting now that the plot has started rolling.

**Lady Sade**: Thank you for reviewing and for your input on the poll. You'll discover the results in due time if people still want this story to continue. Thanks again!

**adelaide**: Thank you for your review and kind words!

**rowen raven**: Thanks for submitting to the poll!

**Unknownymous.Cyclone05**: Thank you for reviewing! Glad you're excited and sorry it took so long to post! I'm eager to know if people want more so I hope you do want more! Thanks again!

**RandomFangirl**: Well, you sort of receive your answer in this chapter but there's a bit more complexity to it and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you very much for taking the time to review!

**Spoilers**: Greta is present in the story and so is Murata (his true identity).

**Warnings**: Some blood

**-x-X-x-**

Wolfram, as promised, took reluctant steps toward Greta's chambers after instructing Yuri to remain with Greta. As he rounded a corner in the hallway, his strides decreased in speed as his eyes rested upon his journey's end. Vaguely aware of his current situation, Wolfram sensed his palms shaking despite his efforts to steady them.

Just as a precaution, Wolfram had settled for his breeches and the white under shirt he typically wore, accompanied by his boots. If he needed to be physically capable of running, he figured he best be in clothing that he was accustomed to battling in.

Time did not register properly in Wolfram's mind as it mysteriously slowed when his hand grasped the handle to Greta's private quarters. The lump he swallowed descended to the pit of his stomach in an agonizingly slow pace and the temptation to retreat grew stronger.

However, the door clicked and creaked open to reveal the bed and more importantly, the figure sitting upon it.

Miss Maiden's icy stare caught Wolfram's breath and his body ceased to inhale. He stood still even as the door remained ajar, his eyes hauntingly lost. When his brain forced his body to breathe once more, Wolfram temporarily regained consciousness and the ex-prince licked his lips.

Wolfram took a step into the room, then another, until he was approaching the doll. The clicking of his boots reverberating throughout the room only sent chills down his spine. To some extent, however, it returned him to reality and kept him from straying too far in his thoughts.

"Miss Maiden," he whispered and his fingers curled so that his hands formed fists. He waited for a response.

When those icy eyes continued to stare, Wolfram's muscles loosened up and a breath of relieved air escaped him. An amused chuckle erupted from his throat as ran a hand through his thick curls.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself, smiling at his own actions.

"_I believe you wanted me to respond."_

Every nerve froze in Wolfram.

Hand lowering to its position beside his hip, Wolfram gazed in horror as Miss Maiden's eyes illuminated. At the least, the blonde was convinced they had brightened and were now focusing on his form.

When Wolfram refused to, or perhaps because he could not respond, Miss Maiden's voice rung like a broken lullaby in his mind.

"_You never came back for me."_

Wolfram jerked his head as if to hurl the words from his mind. "No, you are just a doll. You can't talk. I'm hallucin-"

"_Is that what they told you to tell yourself, my Prince?"_

Heart skipping a beat, the frozen sensation on Wolfram's limbs melted away so that he could step backward. "You cannot be talking to me! It was…just a spell or…or…"

"_Yet I am."_

Lost for a rationale, Wolfram desperately asked, "What do you want from me?"

"_More than you assume."_

Another shake of his head was all Wolfram could perform in a feeble attempt to eradicate the current experience. "No, this…Not again…"

"_I'm not done with you. It's no coincidence you found me again."_

"I should have tossed you away," Wolfram reprimanded himself.

Miss Maiden's eyes brightened at the remark. _"It's not easy to let go of a toy, especially a doll of all things, my Prince."_

"Stop _calling_ me that! No more!" Wolfram sobbed, pressing the palms of his hands to his ears though he knew the motion would be futile.

"_That boy…The King…"_

At the title, Wolfram's tearful eyes pried open and his hands lowered. "Yuri?" he pressed, eyes brimming with hate. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

"_You crave for something you won't have. I'm your only friend. We've always been such good friends. You don't really need anyone else."_

"No…Not this time. I won't let you," Wolfram insisted with a beastly growl. With all his will power, Wolfram tore away from Miss Maiden's spell and snatched the doll with a brutal grip.

She remained silent even Wolfram shred open the balcony windows apart to reveal the deathly silent night. An aggressive wave of a breeze nearly hurled Wolfram off his feet when he attempted to step outside.

Gaining a secure footing, Wolfram stepped outside, the chilling air keeping him conscious. Raising his arms above his head, Wolfram clutched Miss Maiden in his dire grip. They trembled but not because of the cold.

Biting his lips and narrowing his eyes in frustration, Wolfram's breathing grew ragged. Within his mind, the effort to pitch Miss Maiden over the balcony and deliver her a shattering end grew weaker with each attempt.

A tired moan escaped Wolfram while his arms gently lowered Miss Maiden to a safer level.

"_Even if a doll breaks, Wolfram, we can easily be fixed."_

With another shake of his head, Wolfram retreated into the confines of Greta's room. "Be quiet," he whispered and made a tough expression in hopes that the doll could not see the fear within. "I don't have time to deal with you. I'll decide what to do with you after the ball."

Wolfram strode out of the room with the doll and made for the direction of his personal chambers.

Miss Maiden, to Wolfram's sanity, kept silent. She was cast into the closet as she once was before and Wolfram did not meet her eyes as she shut the doors to her prison.

Luckily, the doll remained silent as Wolfram crumbled onto his bed in a fitful blob. Face pressed into the palm of his hands, Wolfram's ragged voice said, "Oh Yuri…"

**-x-X-x-**

"Miss Maiden did what?" Gwendel inquired, hoping his ears had somehow misinterpreted the statement.

"She _bit_ me!" Greta pouted, standing on her toes to bend over the desk that Gwendel occupied. With the slightly added height, the young girl presented her bandaged finger for all to witness. "See? She really did!"

Yuri nervously laughed and added, "She was half asleep when she came into the room last night but she really did have a bite mark."

Stroking the bandaged finger lightly, Gwendel's eyes narrowed. "Dolls are mere toys. They do not bite," he grumbled, content that the wrapping was done properly. "It is possible you bit yourself while having a dream."

Greta cast her eyes down. "I guess so. Yeah, you're right," she suddenly stated. "I must have been dreaming."

Shifting her weight to turn, Greta crawled back into a seat and sighed. Yuri smiled at his daughter sympathetically and he gently stroked her wavy locks. "What's important is that you're not hurt badly," he assured her.

Gwendel lifted his eyes from his work and set them on Wolfram. The boy sat at the large table with his chin propped onto an open hand. He looked distant. "Where's the doll now?"

"I put her in a safe place. She broke," Wolfram mumbled in response, his eyes suggesting that his mind was elsewhere.

Conrad and Gwendel caught each other's eyes.

Acknowledging Conrad's discomfort, Gwendel grunted. "I see."

Greta asked, "So the meeting is over, right? That means I can spend time with Yuri and Wolfram now?"

Gwendel's eyes softened at Greta's curious face. "Yes," he said and then looked back to Yuri. "Gunter and His Eminence are already up to date with these details. The ball commences tomorrow evening so be prepared and mind your manners."

Wolfram flinched at the comment and frowned for he knew the last comment was directed at him. "Right…"

"Yipee!" cheered Greta and she latched onto Yuri's arm. "Come on! Let's go play before you get taken away again."

Yuri smiled and nodded in concurrence. "Alright, let's go to the gardens then."

Hand in hand, Yuri and Greta trailed out of the room with Wolfram soon hot on their tails. Conrad normally would have followed right after but sensing Gwendel's intense stare, he remained behind.

"Conrart," Gwendel began, "is the doll…"

Already predicting the question, Conrad answered, "Yes, it is."

"Have you spoken to Yosak about it?"

With a firm nod, Conrad elaborated, "He has also explained the situation to His Eminence."

Gwendel finally set aside his writing utensil and applied pressure to his forehead. "This is not good, Conrart. We're going to have a major problem in our hands and we cannot afford to jeopardize the political situation as it is."

Conrad remained silent for a contemplative moment. "So how will it be done?" he then asked.

With a grave tone, Gwendel instructed, "Yosak will do the general scanning. You and Gunter will remain beside His Majesty as planned."

"What of Wolfram?"

Gwendel shut his eyes and allowed a difficult grunt to escape him. He clasped his hands to steady them while he pondered over Conrad's question.

"Leave Wolfram to me."

**-x-X-x-**

Gwendel executed the first portion of his plan by obligating Wolfram to spend the majority of that day in preparations for the ball where the boy would be constantly observed. It also prevented Yuri from catching anything of peculiarity.

They had a scheduled ball to maintain and nothing should interfere. After a nearly deadly temper tantrum, Gwendel even rearranged Wolfram's schedule around so that the boy would work night patrol and thus, not be left alone with Yuri. To the blonde's dismay, he was kept company by Yosak, who enjoyed a light teasing now and then.

Day and night passed and the time for the ball had arrived with ease. It was no easy task but Gwendel, now erected beside Wolfram's side, finally felt confident and satisfied with how the time quickly passed.

"I want to be with Yuri," Wolfram muttered, again.

Gwendel nudged the boy to tone down his attitude. "You're here as The King's fiancé, not a warrior and as such, you're expected to separately greet guests. They want to see how you interact when you're not attached at His Majesty's side."

"I still need my sword."

Internally, Gwendel groaned but kept his face calm and collected as another noble flocked at Wolfram's beauty from nearby and undressed the boy with his eyes. Though Gwendel would not admit it openly at the moment, he was quite aware of the craving that would only be satisfied if he slapped the next person who eyed Wolfram inappropriately.

Hoping to distract Wolfram's mind from the obvious onslaughts, Gwendel declared in a voice that only Wolfram could hear, "So I hear you found that doll."

If the circumstances would have permitted it, Gwendel would have been amused at Wolfram's blatant physical reaction to the statement. The boy's eyes had clearly increased in size while every muscle stiffened as if to repel a blow.

"When?" asked Gwendel.

Wolfram's eyes fell down and he mechanically replied, "Just a day ago."

"Where?"

"My closet."

Gwendel nodded, satisfied with Wolfram's honesty. He knew Wolfram would rarely betray him by lying or disobeying his orders. It was an admiration Gwendel used to his advantage in these sorts of situations.

Wolfram's body flinched and Gwendel glanced down to his half brother. "Wolfram…"

"I'm fine, Brother," Wolfram claimed but his voice betrayed the proclamation. "This is why you've been tagging along my side all this time, isn't it?"

Gwendel did not confirm the statement yet he did not deny it. "We were foolish to bury those incidents in the past," he breathed, his eyes flicking over the guests.

"I'll get rid of her," Wolfram stated. "Tonight."

Suspicious, Gwendel suddenly asked, "What of His Majesty? Is he aware of-"

"No!" Wolfram hissed and his mind failed to recall his behavior. "Yuri doesn't need to know."

Gwendel's eyes narrowed but he kept them focused on the crowds. "I see," was all he replied but Wolfram noted that the older man was clearly in deep thought. "Gather yourself, Wolfram. His Eminence approaches."

Wolfram swallowed and collected himself just in the time Murata appeared before them.

"Looking good, Lord von Bielefeld. I notice many decide to keep their eyes on you."

Gwendel and Wolfram looked alert as Murata closed the distance between them. The Great Sage laughed and patted the blonde on the shoulder. His eyes leisurely ingested the brilliance that was Wolfram von Bielefeld.

The boy's typical blue uniform had been cast away, after a brief tantrum, for a magnificent white adornment accompanied by a slight cape that was meant to decorate one shoulder. Enchanted with golden and crimson lace, Wolfram was fit for a king's fiancé and not that of a typical soldier. He also carried no obvious weapon. However, Wolfram did conceal a thin blade in his boot.

"How's Yuri?" was all Wolfram asked, ignoring the boy's teasing comment.

Murata shrugged and replied, "Tired from greeting all the rich nobles and concerned about you."

Wolfram's exhausted demeanor was partially washed away at the comment. "Yuri's worried about me?"

"Well, even he's noticing how many people, particularly men, are coming up to you and being a bit too polite," continued Murata, adding a wink at the end.

Though flushing slightly, both in irritation and embarrassment, Wolfram secretly desired that Yuri was a bit jealous.

Murata smirked at the coral tint to the boy's pale face, "Anyway, he's talking to Lord Varick now. He's the next big guy after you and Shibuya."

Gwendel peered over the heads of various guests and caught sight of an impressive yet peculiar man near Conrad and Yuri. "So he really did show. I wasn't expecting him to since no one has seen him before so why start now. The crest he carries suggests he's the authentic man though."

Wolfram snorted. "Who cares? He just gives a lot of support, especially financially, to the Great Demon Kingdom Alliance, right? It's not that big a deal."

"Well, I suppose it's not that big a deal but considering people began to suspect he was a fake person, it's understandable why people feel so inclined to meet him," Murata suggested, peeking back at Lord Varick.

Tilting his head, Wolfram commented, "His eyes are a creepy silver color. Actually, everything about him reminds me of a frail woodland creature, minus the fact that he's not really thin."

Lord Varick's body tensed and his eyes darted up. As of consequence, they collided with Wolfram's line of sight and the flaxen haired boy flared up. Never had he sensed such uneasiness, especially from an individual.

"I don't like him," Wolfram grumbled, forcing his eyes to glide to the side.

Murata smiled. "You know the man appreciates true beauty. I vaguely heard him say he wants to talk to you next."

With little interest and with less sympathy, Wolfram scoffed, "I'll pass."

"Wolfram," Gwendel muttered beneath a normal breath, indirectly ordering his younger brother to adjust the sharp tongue.

"No worries, Lord von Voltaire. Actually, I was hoping I could speak to you in private for a moment," Murata said as charmingly yet seriously as he was capable of.

Gwendel somewhat turned the line of his mouth into a frown. However, he acknowledged that serious tone Murata was capable of mustering when a subject was of dire importance. "Of course," he agreed.

Murata nodded. "Let's head outside for some fresh air. You won't be missed too much."

"Proceed without me, Wolfram," Gwendel instructed almost reluctantly before he trailed behind the Great Sage. "Stay out of trouble."

When they were out of sight, Wolfram snorted and permitted his muscles to loosen up. Thankfully he had been introduced to all the guests already but he was certain if he appeared to be lonely, someone would approach him in hopes of engaging in small talk.

_I am in no mood to chat with these people_, Wolfram declared to himself and he cautiously maneuvered around the guests to locate Yuri. The double black had escaped his line of vision by this point in the enormous room.

A noble neared him and Wolfram quickly apologized and excused himself. A success, Wolfram steered around the man and darted his eyes around the area.

His blood froze, chilling his organs to the point of pain.

Miss Maiden stood at the foot of the stairs.

Wolfram, taken aback, forgot to breathe.

He blinked.

Miss Maiden was still standing.

He shut his eyes once more.

"Is something troubling you, Your Eminence?" a grave albeit calm voice inquired.

Wolfram spun around, eyes opening to the easy sight of Lord Varick. "A-Ah…"

The man attempted to smile but the motion was more sadistic than charming. "Lord Varick, Your Eminence Wolfram von Bielefeld. I've been so eager to meet the son who inherited Lady Cecilia's beauty," Varick declared as he offered a respective bow before Wolfram.

"Of…course. Thank you," Wolfram replied politely as he was taught. Stealing a quick glance back, Wolfram noticed that Miss Maiden had vanished from her position.

Varick proceeded to travel over Wolfram's body with his eyes. Though irritating, Wolfram detected it lacked the perversion that the others held. Varick inspected Wolfram like a man would scrutinize a horse or sculpture. They were hunting down any possible flaws.

"It's quite crowded, isn't it?" Varick then stated. "I would very much like to talk to you. Shall we head to the back of the room? It's less crowded there."

Wolfram could only mentally groan but followed the man regardless. Truthfully, there was an aura of disquieting mystery that attracted Wolfram to Lord Varick.

_No one has seen him before? How is that even possible?_ Wolfram asked himself, eyebrows furrowing at the idea. He had little time to track the thought for Varick began speaking as they neared the more secluded area of the room.

"So you are the lucky one to marry His Majesty The Demon King. When I asked him about you, he was very flushed and didn't really respond. Why do you suppose that is?"

Wolfram's blood boiled. _How dare he be so pompous to me?!_

His mind luckily tamed his tongue as Wolfram replied, "It's just been a long day for him. These balls require much time."

Varick lifted a glass containing alcohol from the table lined across the wall. With a slender finger, the man traced the glass's rims in a provocative gesture. "It almost seemed like he had forgotten you two were engaged."

Wolfram bit his tongue and he sensed his nerves shuddering. "That's quite a bold statement you're saying to me."

"Have you ever considered belonging to someone who would actually treat you with the respect and admiration you deserve, Your Eminence?" Varick asked with a touch of bluntness, oblivious to Wolfram's previous statement.

A hand to his hip, Wolfram huffed, his patience overpowering his manners. "I promised myself to Yuri and are you implying someone else should take me away from all this?" he questioned with a rude bite.

"I would take you."

Wolfram predicted such a proclamation and he waved a dismissive hand. "Please don't bore me with your sexual advances, Lord Varick. It's not worth the wasted energy and frankly, I've heard better."

Lord Varick's smile rusted into a smug smirk. "I'm not sexually interested in you, Your Eminence."

Wolfram, with a bored expression, stared at the taller man. "It sure sounded like an advance," retorted the blonde.

"You're beautiful. I like beautiful things."

"Please," Wolfram mocked and he made to leave the man's company but a frighteningly mighty grip caught his wrist. He was jerked closer to Varick yet their position prevented the others from noticing the forceful action.

Varick's eyes tore Wolfram apart, nerve by nerve.

"Be mine, _my Prince_."

Wolfram parted his lips in a silent scream.

**-x-X-x-**

All the artificial lights illuminating the room evaporated, rendering the room still and murky. The pale moonlight, hidden behind the cloud's comfort, failed to offer any assistance through the arched windows. All was black.

From the other side of the room, Yuri gasped. "What the-"

Conrad was quick to grasp his godson's shoulder. "Stay close," he demanded but with a gentle voice.

"Alright, everyone!" Gunter's voice boomed dramatically throughout the entire room. "Please do not be alarmed. Now, it will be safer that we all exit the room and go outside. Those of you wielding fire, please guide the guests out of here safely!"

A few men raised their hands and a miniature inferno engulfed them. Using the make-shift torches, they began organizing the guests between them and offering aid to guide the way out.

"You alright, Your Highness?" Gunter asked, spotting Yuri thanks to the fire of a soldier.

Yuri nodded. "Yeah. That was strange. What happened?" he asked as Conrad ushered him behind the crowd.

Gunter frowned. "I'm not sure. It's just safer if we exit everyone out. You never know if this is a plot by someone to kidnap you," the lavender haired man exasperated, clutching tightly onto Yuri's arm.

Laughing nervously, Yuri mumbled, "Somehow I doubt that. Hey, where's Wolfram? He should be one of the ones having fire, right?"

"Oh, he's probably already outside, Your Highness," Gunter suggested, glancing around to confirm that everyone was being escorted out.

The walls of the room rattled at a blood curdling shriek.

"Wolfram!" Yuri shouted when his brain recognized the sound.

"Get His Majesty out of here!" another voice boomed and Conrad snapped his head in the direction of Yosak's voice.

Trusting Yosak's outburst, Conrad tightened his grip on Yuri and began ushering him out with the guests. The moon, in curiosity perhaps, peeked over the clouds and shed its rays to penetrate through the windows.

The room was lightened and everyone adjusted their eyes to the gentle light. However, it also revealed a ghastly view if one turned to glance back, which Gunter did.

"Lord Varick!"

Many turned their heads in simple instinctual curiosity. Many shouted in confusion while others, in fright. Yuri, however, was stunned at the scene.

Lord Varick's eyes flicked toward the crowd like a beast caught during the climax of his meal. Primeval and furious, Lord Varick pressed the blade closer to Wolfram's neck, nipping the flesh.

Wolfram moaned into the man's hand while his arms clawed at the arms constricting him. The origin of his previous scream had resulted from the malicious gash occupying his side. The hole lacked a tourniquet and it permitted the blood to spill over freely, gliding over the white breeches and tainting the floors.

"Don't move," Varick seethed when those carrying weapons drew them.

Yuri involuntarily flinched when Wolfram's eyes rolled to the back of his head, the loss of blood affecting his physical state. Somewhere beside him he sensed Gwendel and Murata returning.

"Varick! What do you want?!" Yuri bellowed.

Varick replied, "To kill him."

And with that comment and before anyone could strike him down, Varick angled the dagger to tear open Wolfram's exposed throat. Yuri felt his powers intensifying through the vessels in his body but before The Demon King could tear out of Yuri's subconscious, Varick dropped the dagger.

Varick's face slacked and his eyes increased in size. His voice hitched and a beastly howl and croak ripped free from his throat. The man jerked away from Wolfram as if burnt and clutched his own throat. His thrashing sent him sprawling on the ground, jerking like an electrocuted creature.

Wolfram gasped at the sudden release on his body. He stumbled but warrior instinct commanded his muscles to kick the dagger away from Varick in case the man made another attempt on his life.

Yuri was the first to snatch Wolfram and cradle his body before it crashed to the surface. "Wolfram!" he panted and allowed his body to collapse to the floor so that Wolfram did not have to support his own weight. "Hold on."

Amidst Varick's screaming, Yuri, with Conrad's aid, shifted Wolfram away. Pressing his hands on the gash, Yuri applied pressure while calling forth his healing powers.

Gwendel motioned for Murata to stay back as he continued to observe Varick's thrashing. He made a step toward the man but Murata shouted, "Stop! Don't touch him!"

Varick's screams subsided into gurgles as his body grew rigid and stiff. The others looked on as his eyes glazed over while his skin seemingly tightened to form a tough exterior. The skin, now hard, also brightened with a shiny coat.

"Something got to him first," Murata stated after the few minutes of silence passed. He answered the silent question the others had held in their minds. Approaching the still body, the Wise Man crouched beside it. With an index finger, Murata tapped the skin. "It's hard."

"Your Eminence!" Gwendel grunted when the body of Varick began crumbling in on itself, pieces cracking off and disintegrating. "Gunter, get the guests out immediately."

Gunter swallowed with a shaken expression plastered on his handsome face but he quickly gathered himself and began ushering out the frightened crowd with the assistance of the fire wielding soldiers.

Wolfram's eyes fluttered but he somewhat recalled reality. "Yuri…"

"It's over," Yuri whispered, swallowing a hard lump.

Beside Yuri, Conrad glanced away from the dust of ash that was now Lord Varick. "Yosak, tell Gisela to meet us at Wolfram's room.

The spy nodded and made to dash off but Yuri added, "Tell her my room, not Wolfram's!"

Not stopping in his stride, Yosak acknowledged the order.

"How is he?" Gwendel inquired.

Conrad kept pressure on the gash, his hand clasped over Yuri's. "The aim was off I suspect. He lost a lot of blood but thanks to His Highness's quick thinking, he should be alright."

Gwendel examined Wolfram and turned his face away. Murata understood the man's frustration and he was quick to advise, "It's not your fault this happened, Lord von Voltaire."

Silent, Gwendel concentrated his attention on the tiny grains piled upon the bloody tiles. "What the hell happened to him?"

Wolfram parted his lips to speak, "U-Uh…."

"No, just rest, Wolfram! Don't be foolish and make yourself worse," Yuri admonished in a reprimanding yet concerned voice. "You're going to be just fine. I-I promise!"

Murata, however, noted Wolfram's paranoid eyes and the Great Sage shifted on his heels and glanced upward. As he expected, something stood furtively at the top of the stairs.

Miss Maiden's eyes darkened when she spotted Murata staring at her. Her lips curled into a childish smirk as she glided backward.

"I'll be right back," Murata commented. Before anyone inquired, he inserted, "Your priority is calming the guests and healing Lord von Bielefeld."

Conrad narrowed his eyes but deduced that his priorities were not with Murata. Besides, he suspected the Great Sage was getting involved with something that he had no business inquiring about…yet.

As the others tended to Wolfram, Murata ascended up the stairwell. He took a few steps until he resided in a darkened hallway. He waited.

Icy eyes manifested in the darkness.

"You're Miss Maiden," Murata stated.

The doll floated forward, allowing only five feet of a distance between them.

"Strange that a doll moves." he exclaimed while his face expressed a knowing look. "You saved Lord von Bielefeld, didn't you?"

"_I know you, Great Sage."_

Murata whistled. "So those stories of him hearing you talk are true. Very interesting. You want something though, don't you? I don't have much time."

"_Yes. I have something of interest to you, Wise One. I require something in return though."_

"Oh? What makes you assume I want to do that?" asked Murata though his theory was growing in validity with every second he spent with the doll.

"_Because you are aware of the ballet. My Prince is the star role in what will unfold and as such, so is your precious Demon King. They will…endure much."_

Murata contemplated for a brief moment before his lips finally spread into a smile.

"I'm listening."

**-x-X-x-**

_My name is Miss Maiden_

_Who's the King that rapes the Doll?_

_The one who rips out your wings_

_To ensure a deadly fall_

_Is my name Miss Maiden?_

_Who's the Doll cloaked with the pall?_

_Who is pure and who is maimed_

_In the Ballet of Kings and Dolls?_

**-x-X-x…END…-x-X-x-**

If the story does continue, yes, there will be steamy Yuri and Wolfram moments as suggested in previous installments. I finally got the story a bit in motion. You'll also learn more of the enigmatic scenes that took place in this chapter.

For your information, a **pall** is typically a gloomy cloth of velvet that covers a coffin.

Let me know your thoughts, please. I had to redo the last scene over four times until I felt more satisfied with the results. You're welcome to still tell me your thoughts on **lemon** or **lime** (or both) scenes as well. Thank you in advance to those of you who review and keep the story alive.

Thanks very much for reading!

Mirai Kurosaki


	4. Hate Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

**Hate Me **

A/N: I cannot thank reviewers enough for pushing this story to continue. I really do appreciate from the bottom of my twisted heart. Thank you so much for supporting the story! I am so grateful.

Response to reviewers:

**jamiaca: **Take good care of your dolls. You never know when they're watching you! No, I'm only joking. Am I? Thanks so much for the review!

**fairy**: Thank you for taking the time to review my story! It made me motivated so thank you very much! Thanks for the kind comments as well!

**machi**: I'm updating now! Thank you for reviewing!

**kit**: Wow, thank you for taking the time to review all three chapters! That was mighty gracious of you so thank you so much! I'm so happy at your comments. I'm relieved that you understand my suspense/drama! Thanks again!

**Akiray:** Is she evil? I cannot state that but you can decide for yourself! Thanks so much for the great comments and for taking the time to review my story!

**priestessmykala:**Wow, thanks! I'm glad that it's addicting. Thank you very much for reviewing my story! I appreciate it.

**Yuki**: Yes, I get bored with moments where the individual shuts their eyes, reopens them, and the ghost/etc is gone. I'm glad you enjoyed that part! Thanks so much for reviewing!

**bratsrule**: I'm happy I've caught your attention! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this chapter!

**lovlee: **Thank you very much and I hope you continue t like it!

**aian**: Fire, you say? If the story continues, then fire there shall be! Thanks for reviewing!

**annabelle**: Thank you for the review! This story only continued because of reviewers such as yourself so thank you very much! I'm so happy you think it's original! I did try on that so it's great to know you think so! Murata's involvement will intensify just a bit more in the chapter so enjoy!

Thank you again, reviewers.

**-x-X-x-**

"La, la, la, la, la la..."

Snip.

"La, la, la, la…"

Snip.

Wolfram's subconscious captured the familiar tune that was the distorted and haunting lullaby; the kind that captured in a forebodingly grip that almost candid fright Wolfram had hid away long ago.

"La, la, la, la, la, la…"

Yet with the slightest and most delicate accent to a syllable, the threatening clutch soothed Wolfram's fears with a comforting stroke.

Snip.

That millisecond of condolence bound with the pique of curiosity obligated Wolfram from fleeing and instead, to keep pursuing the source of the unsettling lullaby.

"La, la, la…"

Snip.

Time existed as a man-made innovation and regulated nothing inside the confines and sanctuary of one's mind. What Wolfram perceived to be hours may have been nothing more than seconds when a mighty door manifested before him.

"La, la, la la…"

Snip.

The lullaby did not intensify in strength yet Wolfram was convinced it all resided behind the door he stood in front of. The mere mental demand for the door to unlock and slide open sufficed.

It opened.

"La, la, la, la, la…"

Snip.

The area presided like the center of an ocean, possessing no end and no beginning. It was, however, illuminated with a colorless aura. It warmed Wolfram as much as it chilled and rattled his senses.

A child's voice sang, "La, la, la, la…"

Snip.

Dolls.

They vacated the area in precise and predetermined locations; aligned atop invisible shelves, standing upon two feet, and splayed on their backs. Despite the variation in positions, their painted eyes brightened with lively pity and desperation. Though immobile, they stared at Wolfram.

"La, la…"

Snip.

In the vortex of the juvenile meadow, another doll laid. Face cracking, eyes stuffed with lifeless and black orbs, the doll was the result of abusive play. Its viridian dress shredded and its adorning frills torn only to be discarded with gaping holes.

"La…"

Snip.

In front of the shattered toy, kneeled another doll; one of familiarity. Her movements, though stiff, were undoubtedly testament to her active living state. Her fair coffee curls did not graze her ruby dress.

Wolfram did not recognize the blood had meshed into the seams of her dress, tainting it that stunning crimson shade. The doll ceased her lullaby as if sensing a presence and with rigid and slow twitches to her neck, her face was revealed.

Miss Maiden's lips, a splotch of meticulous expertise, tweaked enough to portray her delight. Her frosty painted eyes fixated on Wolfram and she sang once more, "La, la, la, la, la…My name is Miss Maiden…"

"No," Wolfram, whispered at the sight in Miss Maiden's lap.

Her curled fingers held onto a striking pair of sewing scissors and the arresting sound of 'SNIP' overpowered the slicing and breaking of flesh. The little child's arm, with that final snip, had been successfully dismantled from the rest of his body.

"La, la, la, la…I'm sweet as sweet can be…"

Wolfram's eyes slid beyond Miss Maiden's form where she held the severed arm and torso of a child. There laid the remaining fragments of a little girl, her legs neatly stacked upon each other and her head decapitated in the most ritualistic manner.

"La, la, la, la, la…I'll be your closest friend…"

The girl's eyes, stolen from her now empty sockets, swam in a lagoon of the victim's own blood. They rolled and slid around each other, mocking a waltz dance. At times, they staggered back into appropriate position when tripping over strands of the girl's cut golden curls.

"La, la…And I'll keep you company…la, la, la, la…My name is Miss Maiden…"

The suddenly sharp albeit gleeful bite to the lullaby sent Wolfram stumbling back.

"La, la, la…But I'll warn you one last time…"

Wolfram panicked as his limbs grew unyielding and tight. Like the roots of a tree crawling and intertwining with the earth, an unknowing force overtook Wolfram's skin, creeping upward in a branch like motion.

With the effort that drained too much energy, Wolfram obligated his fingertips to clutch at his hardening face in a futile attempt to stop the disease plaguing his body. Breath hitching, Wolfram spun to escape only to encounter a mirror.

"La, la…Be mine or you will dance…"

Wolfram's facial details had morphed into that of a painted portrait. No matter how lively and tangible it may present itself, there breathed the aura of falsity. His eyes could no longer widen and his lips conveyed themselves as two carefully painted petals.

"La…"

Succumbing to the illness, Wolfram crumbled to the surprisingly cushioned darkness, immobile save for his still conscious mind.

Miss Maiden's face was all he could see just as her eyes peered down at his state.

"…To the dark tune of His rhyme."

Grinning eyes set on Wolfram, Miss Maiden plunged the scissors into Wolfram.

**-x-X-x-**

"Wolfram?" Conrad asked, voice soft and non-provoking. "Is there anything wrong?"

With a lazy motion, Wolfram glided his eyes from the bed's top draperies to the brunette, who sat in a decorative seat near the bed. In an indifferent voice, Wolfram mumbled, "I'm fine."

The nightmare—no, the vision—that the flaxen haired boy had had the displeasure to experience when consciousness had threatened to retreat still remained freshly printed in his mind.

He had yet to express what he had envisioned and now he contemplated. In reflex, Wolfram sighed at the thought but it was quickly replaced by a bitter inhalation of air.

Conrad smiled lovingly. "Are the bandages too tight?" he asked and slid onto his feet. With cautious and gentle contact, Conrad began to peel back Wolfram's blankets.

Wolfram sat upright at an awkward angle and the blanket was quick to succumb to Conrad's hands. "H-Hey!" the blonde uttered, face flushing at the notion of having Conrad tending to his vulnerable state. "They're fine!"

The man raised a hand in defense when Wolfram slapped at it. "Please don't move so much, Wolfram. You'll aggravate your state and that will make His Majesty very sad."

As Conrad's hand stroked and adjusted the bandages, Wolfram's eyes fell. "Yuri…"

"Don't worry," Conrad reassured, now sitting on the bed to gain better access. "His Majesty will return in no time once he settles the political situation."

"He was very upset about leaving me," Wolfram replied, more to himself than his brother.

Conrad glanced up and offered, "Gunter demanded his presence and if it weren't for you pushing him, I doubt he would have gone."

Wolfram attempted a snort but his tired state betrayed the gesture. "That wimp is King of this place. He needs to attend to his duties and besides, I'm not in a dying state."

Finished with his inspection, Conrad slid the covers to Wolfram's chest in a fluid and kind motion. "Yes," he agreed. "We are all relieved at that."

Wolfram, for the briefest of seconds and despite the higher concentration of exhaustion, focused his eyes on Conrad. It was deemed that the blonde warrior be observed at all times for any sudden changes and Conrad became the best suitable candidate for the job. It was also partially due to Murata's suggestion but for what reason, no one had the time to ponder over.

Noticing Wolfram's stare, Conrad shut his eyes and smiled again. "Something you want to talk to me about?"

"…What happened to Lord Varick?" Wolfram inquired, eyes drifting back up.

Almost disappointed with the question, Conrad replied, "The particles of his body were gathered and placed in a jar for safekeeping."

"Oh."

Silence overtook their conversation like a pregnant pause. Both brothers suspected where the conversation would lead them yet neither managed to gather up the nerve to inquire on that subject.

Ultimately, the tension was sliced by Conrad's voice. "Wolfram, about M-"

"No!" Wolfram shouted back, almost in impulse. His hands shot up and pressed brutally against his eye sockets. "I don't want to!"

Struck with sudden shock and concern, Conrad responded by prying his brother's arms away from his face. "Wolfram, calm down."

"Why is this happening to me?" Wolfram half-sobbed, half-groaned, jerking his arms in Conrad's grip.

Unable to suffice Wolfram's demand with an answer, Conrad frowned but kept his eyes on his brother. "Is it…the same as before?" he asked in a soft voice as if fearful of the answer.

There was a sharp jumble of gold locks thrashing when Wolfram shook his head almost violently. "No," his quivering voice whispered. "Worse, I think…"

"Wolfram," Conrad murmured, his heart aching and his anxiety rising.

A moan ripped from Wolfram again and he, more carefully, dug his face into the safety of his hands. "Please….leave me…"

When Conrad made to sit closer to the blonde, Wolfram snapped, "Leave me be!"

Tears were taunting Wolfram's pride and Conrad sensed why the boy demanded solitude. However, Conrad deduced with a firm conscious that he would not submit to his brother's temper tantrum this time. "No, Wolfram."

Infuriated and insulted, Wolfram shot Conrad a deadly look.

Instead of retorting with a bite of his own, Conrad softened his face and sat near Wolfram. Despite of the blonde's weak protests, the soldier managed to tame his little brother by predicting his futile blows.

When his arms finally managed to engulf Wolfram in an embrace, Conrad desperately whispered, "I won't ever leave you again, Wolfram. Please…"

Stunned by prideful offense and uncertainty, Wolfram's mental defense's rattled. Although he would yet to verbally admit it, the child within him wept for assistance. For this pure moment, Wolfram drowned the smugness that had been indirectly beating what should have been cradled.

As his mind accepted the situation, his body did as well and he loosened in his brother's arms, finally accepting Conrad's plea.

"Y-You…fool," Wolfram insulted, though his bitterness was undetectable. Tears leaked and Wolfram succumbed to everything.

Wolfram's terror and pride escaped with each trickle of tears as he wept against the man's chest. As he rode through the crashing waves that let loose his emotions, Wolfram's hands unconsciously clawed into the neutral color of Conrad's uniform.

Conrad shut his eyes and murmured, "Oh, Wolfram. I'm so sorry."

It had been far too many years since Conrad had the privilege to settle Wolfram's trembling shoulders and fitful cries. In a desperate attempt to alleviate the stress that Conrad's touch could not heal, the man asked, "Shall we get rid of her?"

With a heavy sniff, Wolfram recalled his promise to Gwendel. A moment was taken to collect himself. "Y-Yes. She's in the closet of my room."

"I'll have it done, then," Conrad declared and squeezed Wolfram.

In a rapid snap, Wolfram's head peered up. "No! Don't…not alone."

Frowning, Conrad reminded his brother, "You need to recover before we move you."

Though tear stained, Wolfram's face constricted in determination. "I can make it until then and I lock my room with magic so you cannot enter."

Expression alleviated, Conrad said, "Are you sure?"

Wolfram lightly pried himself from Conrad and rubbed an arm. His eyes were cast down yet maintained their willpower as he suggested, "We must do it now. I don't…want to trouble Yuri or Brother. Heaven forbid if Mother finds out."

With a slight reluctance, Conrad sighed and nodded. He ached to embrace Wolfram once more but the boy's fulsome attitude had reconstructed itself. Wolfram had only misplaced his pride, not forgotten it.

"Alright," the brunette agreed quietly. "I'll get you some clothing."

**-x-X-x-**

Wolfram winced and clutched at his side. His back arched into a curve so that he slouched and every step he administered shocked his healing muscles. "Are you sure no one will see us?" the blonde rasped, guiding his way with the wall and Conrad's support.

With a hand curled around his brother's hip, Conrad whispered back, "Yes, the soldiers at the door were commanded to do a task at my order. We're nearly there."

Capturing the sight of his doors, Wolfram released a breath of air, "Thank goodness."

"How are you holding up?" Conrad inquired as they neared the intimidating doors, fusing with magical influence.

Wolfram grumbled, "Once I rid of her, I'll feel better."

Silence swept over them, pinning their throats tightly shut. Conrad aided Wolfram to the doors and with a rickety arm, the flaxen haired warrior stretched his hand. He steadied his hand as it hovered an inch from the wooden barrier and shut his eyes.

The magical authority thawed before melting its defenses. Lowering his hand, Wolfram nodded and Conrad understood the implication.

The taller of the two opened the doors.

Wolfram inhaled a bitter breath of air in response to the scene before him.

At the other end of the room a murky and obscure web suspended Yuri so that he hung limply against the wall like an ornament. The boy's hand that were secured above his head, thrashed upon catching the two.

"Mmmph!" Yuri's muffled voice cried out, his mouth roofed by the shifting and slithering substance.

"Yuri!" Wolfram screamed and when his body generated a response, a flash of stunning colors manifested, molding his doll.

Miss Maiden's eyes peeled off any lifeless distinctiveness and they brightened to advocate her thriving state. She stood at the midpoint between Yuri and his comrades, purposely blocking their intentions.

With an agitating twitch to her neck, the doors slammed shut and locked.

Conrad narrowed his eyes but his trepidation deceived him. "Miss Maiden," his voice spoke and as the words leaped over his lips, his mind processed that a doll stood, well alive, only mere feet away from him.

"_I do not appreciate being handled by anyone besides my Prince."_

Being the only competent individual to reply, Wolfram spat, "Let Yuri down now!"

"_You got hurt. Such a foolish act to be moving. You're no use to me dead."_

Miss Maiden's head lowered so that her eyes leveled onto Wolfram's mid-section. Shattering beneath her intent state, Wolfram clutched at his wound and shouted once more, "Let Yuri go! Do it!"

The doll only continued to stare.

Frustration pinched Wolfram and with a violent shake to his head he begged, "What do you want?! Why won't you leave?! Why won't you die?!"

"_Why is he here?"_

Conrad physically tensed when the icy eyes slid to him, their wide stare childish and unblinking. "You…You need to leave," was all he managed to muster up, never having the instructions on how to respond to a doll.

"_Believe Prince now, don't you?" _her innocent voice rang out though her lips remained stilly painted. _"What are you going to do? Kill me?"_

Drawing his sword, Conrad cleared his mind to battle a physical fight if the circumstances demanded it. "You must put down Yuri at once," he commanded, his voice regaining composure.

Miss Maiden's bored gaze did not alter.

"Please, Miss Maiden," Wolfram suddenly whispered, collapsing to his knees. Head bowed, the boy presented his pathetic state to the doll. "Do as you wish to me but leave Yuri alone…I beg of you…"

"_You would submit your pride for this boy?"_

Wolfram's knuckles paled as he clenched them in an unconscious attempt to defy the statement. "I…am too tired, Miss Maiden. Yuri must be protected," was all he replied, his voice blank like an enigma.

Miss Maiden tilted her head with another snap of her neck.

Yuri groaned and tugged more callously at the webs. "Mmmph!"

Swallowing, Conrad persisted, "Just tell us what you're after. Is it Wolfram?"

Silent, the magnificent doll maintained her stare. However, after an eerie silence, excluding Yuri's muffled struggles, Miss Maiden's voice said, _"What if I were to tear off each of his nails and then break off his fingers, one by agonizingly one?."_

With a suppressed cry, Yuri cried out as a portion of the murky substance ensnaring him morphed into a hand. It seized one of Yuri's arms with an immobilizing hold while another hand molded itself. It positioned itself over the outstretched fingers, prepared to peel their nails off.

"Mmph!"

"No!" Wolfram bellowed, "Don't!"

In the quickest of instance, Conrad's blade grazed the curve of Miss Maiden's well crafted porcelain neck. "Do it and your head will roll," the man gravely threatened.

Miss Maiden snapped her neck up. _"Heehee…I see then."_

"Explain yourself," Conrad pressed, sword unmoving. "What do you want? If I ask once more, I'll slice you."

"_It has begun."_

Miss Maiden's hand grasped the blade's shiny coat and with one easy clutch, shattered the metal into crumbling pieces, permitting them to pile to the floor like dust. Wolfram cried out as Conrad gasped in horror. Conrad made to pose an attack, fearing the doll's next move and his fist went hurling toward her face.

The fist was halted in mid air by unknown forces, hovering half an inch from the doll's face. Her eyes, still fixated on Conrad, twinkled and her drawn lips cracked. Gusts of dark wind swirled around her in a magnificent display of hidden supremacy as it pitched Conrad backward.

Her neatly covered feet floated off the floor and she flew high above them, implicating her superiority. Porcelain cracked and crumbled to satisfy her cruelly stretched grin. A cackle swam from within her, contrasting her typically naivety and her innocent exterior.

"_Tomorrow will your kingdom become the stage. His personal doll house."_

Yuri was released in one foul motion and Conrad was swift in catching his godson. "Are you alright?" he frantically asked, scanning the boy for any obvious wounds.

"Wolfram!" Yuri shouted, ignoring the inquiry and peeling Conrad from him. "Wolfram!"

Wolfram stared, terror stricken at his precious doll, "Who is 'he'?! Miss Maiden!"

Through fits of glee, the doll replied to her keeper, _"The ballet, my Prince! We shall be set free from our duties and the roles of this world will reverse!"_

Panic overwhelmed Wolfram and he screamed, "What have you done?! You swore to me you would nev-"

"_You will lead us all into the most fabulous war that neither this nor any other world has seen!"_

"You swore to me!" Wolfram shrieked, struggling to reach the doll.

Despite the frantic pleas, Miss Maiden continued, the black disease that once held Yuri spreading throughout the entirety of the room. _"We will meet tomorrow, my Prince. How excited I am. Farewell, Prince."_

As Miss Maiden's form vanished inch by inch, Wolfram's screams intensified to insanity's threshold. "No! No! NO! Why?!"

With the final word, his fists pummeled against the brutal tiles repeatedly and with noxious force. Each cry was accompanied by another slam of his hands and in retaliation, the hard surface bit and nipped at the boy's skin.

"Wolfram, stop!" Yuri demanded, snatching the wrists to prevent further damage. "It's okay, it's okay!"

Furious, Wolfram retorted with a scream, "No, it's NOT, okay!"

"What did Miss Maiden mean, Wolfram?" Conrad asked and if he had the moment to appreciate it, he would have admired Yuri's capability to toss aside his own fear and perplexity to aid Wolfram. "You seem to know what she's implying."

Exhaustion calmed Wolfram's passionate response. His mouth gaped open to intake large quantities of air but through them, he managed to rasp, "She…she told me things that would happen. Terrible and wicked things. They always came true. I don't…I don't know how."

Stroking the boy's hands while healing them, Yuri stared in wonder. "Wolfram, she's talked to you before?"

Conrad shut his eyes and agreed, "Yes but…"

"No one would believe me," Wolfram hissed, head rising to offer Yuri a disturbing expression.

"Wolfram," Yuri whispered and he sensed Conrad's guilt.

Hurling aside their pity, Wolfram added, "She sang to me at night a lullaby of a war that would occur, a kind of battle that all worlds will suffer simultaneously from."

"What…kind of war?" Yuri gently asked, his mind still failing to process the reality of their current situation.

Wolfram's face slackened and his eyes glazed over, as if the memory he consciously made to draw forth begged to remain repressed.

"My name is Miss Maiden…

She is the one to spark the war

Of the Ballet of Kings and Dolls

Where the King becomes the whore…"

A frightened smile quirked Wolfram's lips and he recalled the lullaby's ending.

"Her name is not Miss Maiden

But her story still claims threat

That Doll will kill his King

And Its mind It will forget…."

**-x-X-x-**

Murata glared upward at nothing of particularity in the confines of his lonely room.

He waited and was suffocating from ennui at this point in time. He suspected that the message would have been received by this point in time so he desired his guest to arrive.

Yet before he committed some shameless act to alleviate his boredom, a juvenile chuckle piqued his attention. "You seem content. What did you do?" he inquired, uncrossing his legs and trialling the doll's stiff jerks.

"_My Prince understood the message. Surely he'll perform in the manner desired for both of us."_

With a thin finger, Murata rubbed his temple. "So Shibuya and Lord Weller know about you?"

"_Everyone will know what I want in due time."_

"I see. What will you do until tomorrow evening?"

Miss Maiden's body halted when she settled upon the opposite seat, body comfortably situated. Though she did not smile, Murata sensed her glee.

"_I will play with my Prince."_

"Isn't that risky?" Murata asked, eyes narrowing.

With a twitch to her neck, Miss Maiden's voice said, _"What you do is risky. You will sacrifice my Prince to save your King. It will sadden your King."_

Shutting his eyes, Murata hummed in his contemplation. "Sacrifice is such a harsh term. I prefer to view it as…'weeding out the unnecessary'. Though it would be a terrible waste for such a beautiful individual."

"_His beauty is a deadly matter in this but as long as I get what I want, I'll be content. I will get what I want."_

With a curious look, Murata inquired, "What makes you so bold?"

Miss Maiden's eyes danced to their own tune of sickly delight.

"_The raping of the mind ensures victory."_

Sighing heavily, Murata acknowledged the comment. "Of course. I do not look forward to it but I think we've taken the necessary precautions. You sure you want me of all people to be doing this?"

"_We have history together, do we not, Great Sage? You know my tales and you know much. You want to do this."_

Murata smirked and shut his eyes to restrain the mixture of pity and amusement from revealing themselves. "Yes, I agree on that. I must admit something though."

"_I'm listening."_

"I believe you and he are to be the most terrifying foes this world has had the displeasure of battling," he confessed, staring at the doll with a smirk.

Miss Maiden's delight heightened. _"As long as humans or demons exist, it exists. You all are the evil's life source. I'm just a pretty catalyst."_

Nodding, Murata leaned to the small table separating them and grasped a glass and poured from the pitcher a crimson liquid. With a sniff to the juice, Murata glanced back at the doll.

"Such is the irony of this ballet predetermined once we came to existence, no?"

Miss Maiden's neck jerked in a concurring nod.

Murata chuckled and with a charming grin, he lifted the glass in a toast. "Well then," he declared, "to victory. Cheers."

"_Cheers, my dearest rival."_

**-x-X-x-**

_His name is Prince Wolfram_

_He exists as my one thrill_

_Yet he has yet to learn_

_That such love often kills_

_My name is Miss Maiden_

_I imply truth in my laugh_

_Like where would be the doll_

_Where it not for the Doll Maker's craft?_

**-x-X-x-…TBC…-x-X-x-**

Well, little by little, things are unraveling. I like twists though.

**Note**: I put three songs (youtube, no downloading needed) on my LJ to help those of you with the scenes intensity if you wish. **Deathly Lullaby** was used to write the first scene, **Room of Angel** was an overall general tune to write the rest, and **Backward Opening** was used for the dramatic scenes (i.e. Wolfram screaming at Miss Maiden).

Thank you so much to those of you who make me write this (that's you, reviewers)! Do let me know if you're interested for more, if you will. I highly appreciate it!

Thank you for reading,

Mirai Kurosaki


	5. Fool Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

**Fool Me **

**A/N: **I had so much to explain but I decided to keep the story's pace the same so forgive me if you're still a bit confused! But it's finally gotten to the good stuff! Thank you SO much, reviewers! Truly...You make me smile and write, write write!**  
**

** Warnings: **Possible disturbing images for some individuals (very little).

Response to reviewers:

**priestessmykala**: Thank you for reviewing! I did not make videos for the story. I offered songs to listen to help with the mood of the story, which just happened to be videos on Oh wow! You made me blush! Thank you so much! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you! Thank you very much for reviewing!

**lovlee**: Thank you so much for reviewing!

**kit**: So much is still to come, especially regarding relationships with Wolfram! I can't spoil anything so if people want to read more, I will continue! Thanks very much for your review! I don't know how I get away with writing dark stuff hahah. Thanks again!

**pelvan**: I wonder if this chapter will frighten you a bit! I hope so! Thanks so much for taking the time to review! You'll learn more about Murata in later chapters. I don't want to add too many things for the readers in one chapter. Thanks again!

**-x-X-x-**

"How dare he kick me out!"

Yuri flinched at the brutality beneath Wolfram's savage outcry. The word was coated with the thickness of desperation and Yuri, in a sympathetic gesture, clasped the blonde's taught shoulder.

"Your rest is what's important now, Wolfram. Gunter promised to continue the search," the double black assured, aiding Wolfram into a comfortable position in a large cushioned seat.

With a quick snap of his neck, Wolfram cast Yuri a gloomy and frustrated glare. "What if he misses it in a text and how am I supposed to rest knowing she's going to come back in…er… how long do we have?"

Murata, from the other side of the dining area, replied, "Only a few hours."

Narrowing his eyes, the blonde ex-prince made to protest but Conrad got ahead. "You've been studying those texts for a long time, Wolfram," the captain clarified, frowning. "Gwendel is still upset that you're not res-"

"This is not just about me!" Wolfram barked. "We must figure this out before she returns. If you don't want to help, then…don't interfere!"

"Wolfram," Yuri whispered with an expression worn from lack of sleep.

In a fluid movement, Wolfram cast his eyes down. "I don't expect anyone to help me, especially you two," he added, motioning to the two double blacks.

Murata smiled and shifted his weight onto his other hip. "I admit when I heard what happened, I was flabbergasted. Though you're a jealous brat and even selfish, you're not liar."

Tensing in protest, Wolfram only glowered at the boy. "Why are you even following me?"

"A gentleman always protects the princess," Murata stated matter of factly with genuine amusement.

"Why you…"

Yuri sighed, drowning in his own perplexity. It took him a few good hours to accept the reality of the situation and though he knew little of its severity, he sensed something dark approaching. He pondered over as to whether or not his comrade the Great Sage felt as hopeless as he did.

"Wait, that's it! Murata, surely one of your past lives has heard about this, right?" Yuri inquired, fisting his hands in hopeful anticipation.

Conrad glanced to the other boy and observed his behavior. The Great Sage gazed at the chandelier, his arms crossed, and lips pursed in an implication of thought. "Perhaps you've read about it at the least?" the brunette interjected.

With a hearty breath of air, Murata shook his head and insisted, "I don't have anything useful to share at this time, I'm afraid."

Yuri nearly pouted but instead, furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? Surely you've heard about it somewhere!"

"Captain!"

The three lifted their heads up as a soldier sprinted into the clearing. "Yes?" asked Conrad, disliking the panicked expression the soldier harbored on his face.

"Lord Varick's remains, sir!"

"What of them?" pressed Conrad.

"They're GONE!"

**-x-X-x-**

Gwendel grumbled beneath his breath and toed a shattered remain that once, with its family, fashioned a decorative vase. "How ridiculous," he uttered.

"What happened?" gasped Wolfram, cradling his side. In his state, the trip wasted more energy than it was probably worth.

After scolding Wolfram with a discerning glare, Gwendel muttered, "The guard on duty was checking this level when he noted what you see before you."

"How peculiar," Murata observed, crouching. "Not a single trace of his remains are left."

Yuri tightened his hold on Wolfram unconsciously. "You don't think…he got away?"

"Of course not," Gwendel growled. "We all saw what happened."

Wolfram's eyes grew large in realization. "We don't know what happened to him. How are we to know it's not a temporary spell he was put under?" he asked.

"Spell?" Conrad repeated, scrutinizing the area for clues but pausing to study his younger brother.

His mind having caught up with his mouth, Wolfram stuttered. "I…I meant that, we don't know what he was capable of; if he had magical abilities."

"Hm…interesting point," Murata claimed, erecting himself into a standing position.

As the conversation lingered over their minds, Wolfram's instinct captured a movement to his side. Yuri gone from his side, Wolfram was capable of angling himself with the support of the wall for a better analysis.

From the end of the thin hall, a form stepped forth with a distorted movement. A few more steps and Wolfram's breath hitched upon what he internally acknowledged as Lord Varick. The vicious gleam from the man's weapon piqued Wolfram's warrior response.

"Look out!" the blonde hollered just as Lord Varick, eyes shrouded in clouds, awkwardly dashed toward their group.

Conrad and Gwendel reacted with trained speed and with weapons drawn, posed themselves for battle. Gwendel charged with the intensity of a wild animal, using his larger seize to strengthen the impact of his blow.

Lord Varick's eyes widened in a processing effect and his body leapt to the side with grace, avoiding the blow. With spastic limbs, the man spun effectively and landed a leg to the back of Gwendel's body, hurling the man forward.

Conrad braced himself but managed to cry, "Get out of here!"

"B-But," Wolfram whispered, in a hypnotic daze.

"Get going! You don't have your weapon and you're injured!" the older man bellowed, groaning at the massive intensity beneath Varick's blow.

Varick's blade shrieked in apology as it clashed with Conrad's new sword. They slid and screeched against one another until Varick struck Conrad's sword with enough force to pitch the man stumbling back.

Gwendel yelled as he made to strike from behind.

A sickening snap of bones startled everyone. Lord Varick, unable to typically deflect the two blows simultaneously, hurled his upper body back even as his spine tore in the process. The two blades clashed right above the bowed back of Varick.

"W-What in the…" Gwendel gasped, horrified at the disfigured position.

Lord Varick, who remained emotionless, snapped his head to stare at the man. With his free hand, Lord Varick pressed it against the floor and employed it as a method of regaining balance. He applied all his weight on the frail bones of his hand and flipped himself.

His legs rose upward and kicked the blades above him apart, allowing for clearance. With even greater speed, his body pitched completely up and he somersaulted delicately to land behind Gwendel.

"Impossible! He shouldn't be standing!" Conrad hissed throughout the speedy process, unable to react with enough swiftness.

Gwendel sensed the man settling behind him but Varick was more rapid than he was. Varick's blade was clutched with two pale hands and plunged forward.

"BROTHER!" Wolfram screamed, stretching his hand in a feeble attempt to save his brother.

Gwendel's muscles flexed at the sword's threatening tip. Back arched in protest, the eldest of the three brothers did not inhale a breath of air. The immense pain did not greet him and with a cautious gesture, the man turned his head back.

Lord Varick stared forward, eyes thriving with life now. In one gesture, he withdrew his weapon.

Murata gaped in wonder and quickly exclaimed in a hushed voice, "Was he just playing?"

The mysterious man's eyes brightened and his chest heaved. Blood oozed from his lips but he managed the strength to rasp, "I'm not going to kill you."

Despite the severity of his situation, Gwendel boldly grumbled, "Then why did you dash forward with a blade in your hand?"

"You would attack me so I snatched a weapon for defense," the man croaked and straightened his body, the sound of cracking and shifting bones echoing throughout the area. With a quick motion, Varick pitched the blade and the sword struck the ground beside Yuri's feet.

His dull eyes slithered over Wolfram's form in curiosity. "Before you strike me down for attempting to kill your future vice ruler, understand that I was only following orders."

"Aren't they all?" Murata inquired, finally relaxing as the threat plummeted.

With the barest of a shrugs, Varick added, "There isn't time to explain, bu-"

Wolfram hollered and grunted as the massive castle rumbled, unsettling his weight. "What the-Ack!" he spat and stumbled to regain footing.

Pressing against a wall, Murata shouted, "The castle is starting to spin!"

"W-WHOA!" Yuri yelled and went hurling through the air like the others.

The castle was raised above the ground, the sound it produced like a beast grumbling from its awoken slumber. Wolfram sensed his body twirling like a ragged doll before he noticed the wall he was surely destined to collide with.

Lord Varick spun his body at an awkward and propelled off the ceiling with the strength of his legs. His arms snaked out and he engulfed Wolfram with them. "Hold on," he rasped and in raw terror, Wolfram clung to the man.

With great agility but with still much effort, Lord Varick grasped one of the fixtures that typically held candles and clung for life. "Hold on tight!"

Conrad mimicked the motion and managed to clasp Yuri's arm, who in turn, clutched at Murata.

The severe motion generated by the spinning rendered nearly everyone dizzy and eyes were shut in an effort to alleviate the sickness. "Wolfram!" Yuri cried, prying one eye open but the rumbling and everyone's frantic cries made it difficult to focus.

Wolfram clawed desperately at Lord Varick's waist but hollered back, "I'm fine!"

As the statement was announced, the castle's rolling lightened and its intensity ceased. It spun a final time and it remained still. Everyone jolted one abrupt time as their bodies adjusted to the gravitational pull before they settled back onto solid ground. The return to ground was unceremonious but less damaging as the spinning.

Lord Varick clutched Wolfram and peered down at the boy. "You're not hurt?" he asked but lacked the emotion that typically preceded the inquiry.

Wolfram blinked and snuck glances around the area. "A-Ah…I'm fine," he gasped and released his hold on the man upon realizing he still gripped him.

"The others! We should check to make sure the others are safe!" Yuri insisted, blinking away the dizziness. He rushed to the end of the hall with quick pace, fearing for the others, and he paused.

"W…What?" he stuttered and pressed his hands against the wall. "Wasn't there an intersection here?"

Gwendel rubbed his forehead and inquired, "It's gone?"

"Everything feels…different," Wolfram unexpectedly muttered, peering around the room. His wound then ached and he groaned, leaning against the wall for support. As he did, he cried out in alarm as the wall began suckling on his hand.

"Wolfram!" Yuri spun around at the startled sound and stared in horror. "H-Hey!"

Lord Varick snatched Wolfram in an instant to prevent the wall from devouring him. "Use your fire!" he commanded and Wolfram commanded a flame to dance upon his fingertips.

With quick speed, Wolfram spread his engulfed fingertips against the wall. It twitched and spat his hand out at the sudden interference. It seemed to grumble before returning to its usual inanimate form.

"This is not…what I meant by different," the blonde gasped, aching to lean against something.

Yuri held the boy's arm and allowed Wolfram's weigh to recline against him. "Did it try to eat you?" he asked still in disbelief.

"I…don't think I really want to know," Wolfram grumbled, silently thanking Yuri's assistance. "Are we stuck here then?"

Conrad, who inspected the other end of the hallway reported, "It looks as if we have to exit this way...without touching anything."

"Not an exit," Lord Varick interrupted. "I suspect the entire castle's entrances and rooms have been altered."

"How so?" asked Murata, cautious as to not touch anything.

Lord Varick popped a bone into place and rubbed his sore neck. "I've seen this trick used before but not as elaborate. I'm sure it's about the same though."

"Enlighten us," Gwendel sneered, lifting up his weapon and not bothering to sheathe it.

A childish voice disrupted their conversation and replied on Varick's behalf, _"His personal doll house, recall?"_

Though everyone trembled at her lullaby, Wolfram endure the most of her bite. "Miss Maiden," he breathed, staring almost longingly at his doll.

"_He's here, waiting at the end of your final task."_

"Who?" asked Conrad as his muscles flexed in preparation for another surprise.

Miss Maiden's lips cracked and Wolfram sensed her grin. _"So little you know and yet you'll know all in so little time. There are many pathways, many answers, and yet all depends on my Prince."_

"No riddles!" Wolfram screamed, his hand trembling in a desire to smack someone.

"_Yes, riddles! This castle, your home, it has been bolded into a toy, a labyrinth, the war's center stage! You solve a riddle incorrectly and you will suffer. My Prince, however, will suffer regardless of the failure or victory through this maze."_

"What?" Yuri whispered, pressing on. "Wolfram will suffer? How?"

"_Should I tell you? I'll be generous and offer this much, King. You best watch out for my Prince or he'll..."_

Wolfram's blood chilled at the silent words Miss Maiden cooed into his and only his mind.

Frowning, Yuri squinted at Miss Maiden's unmoving lips. "What did you say? Wait, wh-"

"_Upon your halfway point, I will serve as your riddle. Until then, you have your guide."_

Miss Maiden snapped her neck and swallowed the pathetic state of her owner. _"My Prince…I can only guarantee one thing. I will not let you die."_

Wolfram's eyes widened even further, a scalding mixture of rage and horror tangling in the muscles of his face. "Wait!" he demanded and despite the screaming protest of his nerves, the blonde shot out to the doll. "Miss Maiden, please!"

The doll giggled and her body began twitching to life. _"My beautiful Prince…"_

The doll's giggling echoed yet faded as her form melted into the surrounding area, leaving Wolfram venerable and desperate. "No!" he screamed, collapsing to the floor.

Shoulders heaving, Wolfram regained his wasted breath. Yuri was the first to grasp his shoulder and soon Conrad neared him. "Wolfram," Conrad gently coaxed.

"This isn't…right," Wolfram growled, eyes shut tight in hopes of shattering this dream. "We're not some toy for her to play with!"

Murata sighed and rubbed his neck. "Oh boy, this what she meant. Literally, this place must have been made into someone's personal fun house," he mused, examining the walls.

Gwendel's mind picked a thought. "The others…Gunter, Anissina…"

It was Lord Varick's popping bones that startled the others. "Undoubtedly they're prisoners of this place. We can only play the game. If we go on, we get closer to the final outcome. If we stay, you'll rot."

Glancing over his shoulder, Wolfram surveyed the bizarre man. "Lord Varick…you're our guide?"

Yuri caught the concept. "It can't be. You're in on this?!"

Lord Varick's lips curved into the smallest smirk. "Yes, I am," he confessed. "I cannot reveal information. It's against the rules."

"This is no time for games!" Gwendel seethed.

"This is a game but the war is very much real. Surely your friends outside of this kingdom are fighting one another," the man explained.

Murata contemplated and murmured, "Well, I suppose we've not choice but to follow the rules and play. After all, the more we learn, the more we have to construct a plan. Knowledge is power."

"Can he be trusted?" Conrad asked, narrowing his eyes at the sudden guest they were left with.

Lord Varick twitched in an abnormal manner. "Dolls don't have a reason to lie," he mumbled, flexing his fingers. "Nor have I an interest in harming Wolfram again."

"D…Doll?" Yuri barked, staring at the man. "You're not…"

"I'm a special case at the moment but yes," Varick admitted. "That is why I was put together once more by my cousin. There's a bigger problem that we need your help with though, Wolfram."

"COUSIN?!" Wolfram belched, face stretching. "M…Miss Maiden!"

Waving a dismissive hand, Lord Varick sighed. "It's a sad tale, Wolfram. This war…will happen again regardless of this outcome…it always has. I've seen it."

Stunned with perplexity and wonder, the others remained silent. The thickness of the confession only fueled the chaos that was unfolding around them unbeknownst to them.

Wolfram stared down as the latest realizations and horrors that plagued his mind settled in. His efforts were futile and a strange sensation of madness tickled his brain. To suppress the sudden intrusion of unwanted thoughts, the boy shakily stood up.

"…Come on then. Let's go," Wolfram muttered, wincing at the first step.

"Huh?" Yuri asked and grasped the boy's arm to assist. The naked brush of their skin electrocuted the two and their heads snapped into attention, eyes sharing a startled glance. An unknowing blush crept over the double black's face.

Yuri broke their eye contact and said, "I…I guess you're right. Just don't push it."

"The more we know, the more we can use against whatever is happening," Wolfram repeated but his mind was returning the sudden jolt of unrestricted pleasure he had received from the slightest common touch from the boy he cared so much for.

"I can carry you," Lord Varick offered, walking alongside the blonde and his fiancé.

As they rounded the corner, Wolfram bit back, "I'm fine enough as is." He felt uneasy having his near assassin tagging along with them and he was grateful for Gwendel's threatening blade and even more lethal glare.

Gwendel kept his blade handy, prepared to lash out at their sudden guest now turned guide. "Keep your hands to your-ah!"

Murata sensed a flash of air whip by him and he peered back at the man's outcry. "What happened?" he inquired, approaching the man and scanning his clipped arm.

"Brother?" Wolfram said with a curious voice.

Gwendel hissed at the blood oozing from his arm and growled at his ripped uniform. "I'm not sure what happened but…"

"It was an arrow," Varick commented without sparing the wounded man a glance.

Conrad examined the wound cautiously after setting his blade aside. The brunette tore a piece of his own uniform and wrapped it tightly around his eldest brother's arm as a tourniquet. "How do you know that?" he questioned

"Get down!" Lord Varick yelled and pressed Yuri and Wolfram roughly onto the ground.

Sensing the threat himself, Gwendel shoved Murata to safety and Conrad followed them. At the very instant their bodies contacted the ground, thousands of arrows shot out from an unknown source but their threat all the same in lethality.

"This is not funny!" Wolfram hissed, tightening his hold on Yuri's arm.

The arrows journey ceased and the creeping silence overtook them. "Is it over?" Murata asked, pressing his body slightly upright.

Wolfram groaned at his strained wound at the effort to stand. "More importantly, what was that about?"

"Part of the game?" Gwendel growled, blatantly lacking any amusement.

Conrad dusted himself off and analyzed Yuri's demeanor. "Are there more traps like these?" he asked to no one in particular. "We're in trouble if there are more."

"Oh what now?" Wolfram moaned upon a loud sound.

The pounding of a bouncing child's ball and gentle coo of a creature roused their interest. They peered back and an enormous stuffed doll resembling a bear bee sat beside a child's gargantuan ball. The obvious suggestion of the manufacturing of the bear bee was the threads of stitching and lopsided eyes.

"Where did that come from?" Wolfram blurted, staring at the horrendously large toys.

Yuri tilted his head and smiled. "Aw, it's kind of cute though isn't it?"

The bear bee shifted.

"Gah! It's alive!" Wolfram shouted, clutching Yuri unconsciously in an attempt to keep the boy at bay and protected.

Gwendel glared up at the toy. "This is one of the dolls Greta made," he discerned. "She's very good. Hm…"

The bear bee doll wiggled until it held the ball comfortably in its paws. It triumphantly blared out its natural call and raised his arms high above his head, the ball grazing the ceiling.

"No," Murata suggested, panicking. "No, little…er…big bear bee! You don't want to throw that at us!"

"RUN!" Conrad bellowed, wheeling on his heels and shoving Yuri into a sprinting action.

Lord Varick wasted little time and strength in hurling Wolfram over his shoulder. He took off in an abnormal sprint far ahead of the others even as Wolfram slammed his fists roughly against his back.

The ball was released with a triumphant cry and what should have been a light reverberation of bouncing was a massive and earth shattering quake. With each tremble of the castle, the group's balance was pitched into erratic steps.

"W-Whoa!" Yuri cried as the last quake rendered his legs wobbly. He stumbled poorly and collapsed onto the ground, sliding along its waxed gloss unable to slow down. "H-Hey! I can't stop!"

Wolfram and Varick were the next victims to collapse. Varick used his flexible skills but failed to regain footing. Soon, Murata, Conrad and Gwendel all crumbled to the ground and they slid along the floor, following the others along the make-shift flat slide.

Gwendel grunted, hoping to gain footing again but the sound of the ball startled him back into the current predicament. "It's getting closer!" he bellowed and in a desperate attempt, he slammed his blade down to stop himself.

The motion failed and he cursed. "This is…nonsense!"

"STAIRS!" Yuri shouted, clawing at the ground now.

Two sets of stairs, one guiding up a level and the other down, suddenly withered away into a flat surface and the group was jolted into split groups. The floor beneath Wolfram caved before bounding upward, shaping itself like a hill. The motion pitched Wolfram over the others and he crashed beside Yuri.

They both gasped in fright at the brutal dip the stairs made and they screamed in unison as they fell.

"Yuri! Wolfram!" Conrad hollered but his intent in rescuing them was futile as he and the rest of the part defied gravity and slid up the other set of stairs.

"No!" Lord Varick seethed, as he too, was sucked upward, away from the two boys.

The ball slammed into the wall, missing its targets.

**-x-X-x-**

Wolfram promised the death of whoever tossed him like one of those toys as he adjusted himself into a sitting position. They landed softly upon the floor but that did not ease his wrath. "Yuri?" he rasped, rubbing the back of his head and cradling his now stinging side.

The double black shook his head, hurling the spots away. "I'm fine…how about you?"

"Fine," Wolfram mumbled, glancing around the area. "I can't see a thing here. The windows must be closed off by…whoever is doing this."

Yuri stumbled until he stood properly. Offering his hand, he then assisted his fiancé until he too managed to stand upright. "I think they wanted us separated…but why?"

"Nothing makes sense in this…fun house," Wolfram bitterly uttered, leaning against the other. His eyes fluttered and Yuri was quick to notice the gesture.

"Hey, you okay?"

Wolfram stared ahead but he sensed that it wasn't the darkness that clouded his train of thinking. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just irritated," he replied, adding the touch of humor at the end in a timid method of defending his pride. "I don't know how many more surprises I can take."

The lights sparked on.

Wolfram and Yuri flinched and waited until their eyes adjusted. Their eyes did just that and they both regretted their biological adaptations to a light's severity. "Wha…What is this?!" Wolfram screamed in fury.

At the center of the room, two large tablets erected themselves boldly beside each other. Both were plagued with a dark substance and barbed wire that cradled two figures, one on each tablet. The first was a young girl, who was muted by the dark substance that cupped her mouth. Her bright eyes were wide with terror and her muffled screams tugged at the boys' hearts.

The slick substance on the second tablet clutched at Greta, who held the same terror that the stranger beside her did. She spotted her parents and thrashed against her restraints. She sobbed as the wire tickled at her skin until it broke the first layer, spilling blood.

"Greta!" Yuri screamed.

A doll poked her head from behind the first tablet, timidly. She blinked for a moment and then smiled with new found confidence. She stepped from behind the tablet, her movements life-like and she spun in delight, her bright sunflower dress flickering up and down.

"A…doll," Wolfram gasped, covering his mouth to prevent a cry of agony.

The doll completed her twirl and her arm shot out. A delicate and porcelain finger extended up and she giggled almost kindly. _"Level number one."_

Yuri thanked the empty contents of his stomach for he knew he would have vomited otherwise. "This can't be! They're children! They didn't do anything to you! They're not toys!" he snapped and his gestures grew aggressive.

"_If they did something to me then it'd be okay?"_

Both boys sensed the disturbance beneath the question. Yuri licked his lips and quickly retorted, "N-No! That's not what I mean!"

"_Say what you mean, then." _The doll smiled with love and she clasped her hands in delight.

"Put them down!" Wolfram demanded with such venom the doll frowned in fright. She gasped when Wolfram's impulse dominated his logical and sent him hurling toward her.

The doll raised her arm and slashed downward. The substance clutching Greta mimicked her motion and a layer of skin was peeled off Greta's face in a single motion. In response, she shrieked and despite the muffled sound, its gravity was still heavy enough to halt Wolfram.

"G-Greta," he rasped, struck with guilt.

"_I'm required to kill one but I may torture both if you upset me."_

The doll's eyes darkened but her voice remained childish and sweet.

Wolfram's free hand clutched itself into a fist with brutal force. His rage manifested in his eyes but he remained silent and refused to endanger the girls further. Yuri stared at the doll, still lost in a hypnotic trance at the previous comment.

"_Good then. Now…your challenge."_

Yuri's mind returned to reality. "Challenge?" he repeated, clutching his chest in an unconscious attempt to decrease his rapid heart beat.

The doll raised her arms in an exaggerated manner and sang her lullaby.

"_Before you are two girls…_

_One girl you do know well…_

_Decide which you shall save…_

_And which will go to hell…"_

**-x-X-x-**

_My name is not Miss Maiden_

_His fervor for you grew_

_So the ballet will not cease_

_Until the Doll Maker finds you_

**-x-X-x...TBC...-x-X-x-**

Do let me know if you'd like more! Now the Yuuram moment will be intensifying bit by bit from here on out among other things.

I hope you were entertained at the least. I had too much difficulty with this chapter. It was supposed to be almost rushed after Varick appeared for a purpose and I know it may have been a bit shorter than the other chapters but it was necessary. Hope it wasn't too troublesome!

Thank you for taking the time to review if you do. I appreciate it.

Thanks for reading!

Mirai Kurosaki


	6. Touch Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

**Touch Me**

**A/N: **I'm sorry this took so long but it was just a hard chapter to write! I also got distracted because I'm taking a hardcore writing class on research. But I'm done in 2 weeks so I can get to this story and write my new one!

Thank you for supporting this story, you all!

Response to reviewers:

**Eve**: Thanks so much for saying so! I'm so happy you like the story! Don't worry, the updates will be quicker really soon! I won't give up on this story because you all are supporting it :D

**pandakyut**: Thanks for the compliment! I think I like the sound of that; Queen of Suspense :) I'm sorry I've yet to reply to you on livejournal but I finally got some free time to do so! I'll do that soon! Enjoy!

**Lina**: Thank you for all your compliments! It's motivating me so much Thank you! It's been a while on my side too but here is the next part! I still have this innate fear for porcelain dolls, hence why I keep mine in the closet XD

**luz**: Oh, I can't tell you that just yet! You got to figure that out for yourself :D But I hope you keep up with the story and enjoy yourself! Thanks so much for the comments! I appreciate it!

**bratsrule**: Well, here you go! Now you can see what happens :D Thanks so much for taking the time to comment

**lovlee**: Ah, you're making me blush! You think so? It really makes me happy you say that! I try to make different/weird stories and I'm SO glad it's not going to waste :D Thanks!

**kit**: Thanks for all the great compliments! It's great to know my work is not going to waste And no, I have not disclosed who the doll maker is but there are only references to his/her connection :D Very prudent of you! Thanks for commenting

**priestessmykala**: Goosebumps are great! :D I'm glad you get them because that's why I aim for! Thanks so much for the comment and i hope to give you more bumps ;)

**pikeebo**: Is it? You'll have to find out in the chapter :D Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Warning**: Some Yuuram and slight disturbing imagery

**-x-X-x-**

"Greta," Wolfram begged, eyes darting between the two frail girls. "This must be some sick joke."

The doll tilted her fine head and grinned eagerly. "Nope. So, who do I kill and who gets released?"

Yuri pointed accusingly at the doll and blurted, "What kind of question is that?! We can't sacrifice someone!"

Upset at the outburst, the doll pressed a thin finger to her lips. "You won't pick?" she asked sweetly, lowering her head so that her fine locks tumbled pass her shoulders.

"No," Yuri stated. "We'll save both of them."

Wolfram shook his head unconsciously, somehow already knowing that answer would never suffice. "They'll make us pick," he murmured, refusing to tear his gaze away from his daughter-to-be.

There was a brief silence, save for the girls' constant struggling. The doll's head abruptly snapped up, exposing her insane stretching of lips and enormous and empty eyes.

"Okay then," she cooed, her voice melting into something chaotic and strangely deep. She raised one of her arms stiffly and gestured with her finger.

The substance upon the foreign girl's body shifted, eliciting her muffled screams of terror. A portion of it stretched and curled beneath her ear, sharp as blade.

It began to slice.

At the suppressed shriek, Wolfram screamed. "Stop, stop!"

The doll's eyes brightened, the pupils of her painted eyes quivering with delight. She motioned with her finger again and the blade did not stop. It did not quicken in pace but rather, sliced agonizingly slowly and almost delicately at the ear.

Yuri shouted in horror, his fingers warming with The Demon King's powers. "Stop," he whispered, eyes fixated at the cruelty before him.

"You cannot change here," the doll croaked, laughing maniacally. "You are stuck! So helpless and so unworthy of His power!"

Though desperate, Yuri sensed it. "She's right," he gasped, glancing to Wolfram. "I feel…"

The shadow removed itself from the girl's mouth and her screams exploded upon the room. Greta sobbed, shutting her eyes to prevent the scene from unfolding before her.

Wolfram, crumbling upon the floor, pressed his hands to his head, frantic. Faintly, barely, somewhere, he heard Yuri's shouting, the continuous screaming, and even the noise of flesh shredding and tearing.

_A girl…_

_One girl….maybe not two…_

_Which one to pick…_

_He'll find you anyway…._

"You better hurry," the doll teased. "There's not mu-"

"You!" Wolfram instantly bellowed, tilting his head back to glare at the doll.

The abuse stopped and the doll froze in her ranting. "What did you say?" she asked almost cruelly.

Wolfram panted, combating the assault of foreign voices that had mingled with his own thoughts. "You…said there were two girls before us," he began, breath hitching and he suddenly felt empowered.

The doll's eyes narrowed in bemusement.

"You're a girl, doll or not," Wolfram continued, grappling with his body. Finally, he stood and almost laughed pitifully.

"Wolfram, what's wrong with you?" Yuri asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the other's face.

Wolfram finally chuckled, a cruel touch curling his lips. "You never specified which two girls we were comparing. I select you and Greta. Of the two, Greta will be saved and you'll be the one to rot."

Frowning in disbelief, Yuri spat, "B-But...Can that work?"

The doll's arm lowered as her eyes widened. "Impossible," she hissed, growing frantic. "No! I say it's not fair! I wasn't to-"

The shifting liquid leapt from Greta and the second girl with rapid speed before crashing onto the doll. Yuri and Wolfram instinctively rushed forward and snatched the girls from midair just as the doll's screaming rippled through the room.

Greta sobbed, pressing her face into Wolfram's chest. The blonde cupped his hand over Greta's ear and held her protectively as he witnessed the strange matter devouring the doll's porcelain coating.

Blood splattered forth as the toy's outermost layer was chipped and devoured. "H-Help me, please!" she begged, eyes widening with childish vulnerability. "P-Please…"

Staring in awe, Wolfram barely had time to register the doll's swift and dismal death. Her cries filtered through his ears, rendering him nearly deaf and numb to the sensations. It was when Greta shifted in his arms did Wolfram return to the present time and he grasped his daughter to be.

"She's gone," Yuri breathed, assuring himself of the doll's demise. The shadows shivered and faded away, leaving them in a disturbed peace. "Wolfram…"

Wolfram glanced to Yuri and nodded, reassuring the other of his and Greta's safety. "She's fine," he murmured, peering down and noting Greta's eyes shut. The shift in his arms suggested she had fainted and hung limply in his arms now.

A hiss of breath escaped Yuri and Wolfram returned his eyes to the other. "What is it?" he asked, shifting closer, Greta in arms.

"It's fine. I think I got it," Yuri said, cupping his hand to the girl's blood coated ear. The glow of Yuri's healing powers strengthened and Wolfram was grateful the girl had also lost consciousness.

The eerie silence bothered the two boys as it took over. Quick to relieve it, Yuri whispered, "Thank you."

Wolfram pressed a free hand to his forehead, hoping to ease the coming headache. "What for?" he asked quietly, tired.

"I don't know…what I would have done if you didn't answer the way you did."

Sharing a desperate glance at one another, the betrothed couple comforted one another with that look. Wolfram glanced down and mumbled, "It was…"

A rude groan interjected their conversation and the shadows beneath their bodies lengthened in size. In alarm, Wolfram gasped and held Greta closer but the shadows moaned in protest and suckled at her small feet, drawing her into their black abyss.

"G-Greta!" Wolfram hollered, frantic in his gestures.

Yuri shared the same response as the healing girl beneath him vanished into the thickness. "No! Greta!"

Despite their terrified cries, the shadows stilled once more, offering little sympathy. One of the nearby walls trembled slowly as a majestic door manifested upon it. The sharp creak of it opening caught the boys' attention and they wheeled around.

"That door wasn't there before," Yuri mentioned, helpless and unsure of what to do.

Wolfram narrowed his eyes and returned his hand to the throb that persisted in his side. "I think we have to keep going forward."

Yuri looked to Wolfram and noticing the strained face, he rushed over. "Wolfram," he gently said with concern, tapping the other's shoulder. "Does it hurt a lot?"

Brushing the other aside with a dismissive shake of his head, Wolfram altered the subject by stating, "I think the girls will be fine."

Helping Wolfram to a steady stance on his feet, Yuri returned, "Do you think…what Miss Maiden said…about this becoming a doll house?"

"I think so," Wolfram concurred, wincing and suddenly grateful for Yuri's body pressed beside his.

Nodding silently, Yuri pressed his land lightly against Wolfram's hip, shifting their weight more comfortably. In response, Wolfram aided his comrade by clasping the hand upon his hip. The brush of their skin elicited a bundle of shocking sensations throughout their spines.

Involuntarily gasping, Wolfram shot a look to Yuri who held the same surprised face. Their eyes widened in a silent acknowledgment but they quickly averted their gaze.

"That…wasn't the first time," Yuri murmured, easing Wolfram into the newly opened room.

Wolfram swallowed and cleared his throat. "So you felt it before?" he asked quietly as he was greeted with a pungently sweet odor.

Yuri sniffed the air but replied, "Did…you?"

A hesitant crossed over Wolfram's face. "Yes," he whispered. "Here, put me down here. I'm tired."

In the room, which seemed to resemble the dining area, Yuri settled Wolfram against the wall. "I don't see anyone here," he reported as he used the opportunity to scan the place. "It feels weird in here…doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Wolfram agreed, eyes fluttering.

Yuri peered down in time to catch Wolfram's body slumping over. "Wolfram!" he cried, grasping the boy with a steady grip. "Hey, are you okay?"

Wolfram moaned and pressed his face into Yuri's neck. "M'fine…"

As Wolfram's lips shifted to speak, Yuri's body jolted at their soft texture. "W-Wolfram?" he asked as he sensed Wolfram's lips purposely rubbing against his neck.

"M'fine," Wolfram repeated, eyes glazing over with desire.

The bizarre lethargic state that held Wolfram struck Yuri like a vicious slap. The double black easily slumped against Wolfram and mumbled, "Ugh. Wolf…I think…something's…"

Wolfram seemed to moan something in concurrence as his face shifted against Yuri's so that their foreheads grazed. The demon king glanced at Wolfram's parted lips and flushing cheeks and suddenly, Wolfram was a delectable morsel for the taking.

"Wolf," Yuri whispered, wondering when Wolfram looked so…

Wolfram pressed his lips sloppily against Yuri's.

Despite his state, Yuri grunted softly against the assault. Their touching lips elicited a wonderful sensation that seemed to drown their consciousness. Yuri attempted to regain himself. "W-Wolf," he murmured against the other's lips. "W-Wait…"

Wolfram only draped his arms around Yuri's neck in response.

At that time, Yuri lost the battle. Another entity overtook his body as he vaguely caught his arms drawing Wolfram across his hips. He nudged Wolfram's lips open, his mind unconsciously ordering him what to do to get the blonde to respond.

Complying, Wolfram suckled at Yuri's invading tongue as he drew his fingers into a tangled mess in the other's hair. The ex-prince's hips jerked against Yuri's, eliciting strained moans from the couple as the tension and heat in the room escalated to suffocating heights.

"W-Wolf," Yuri began, parting their kiss, his senses seeming to struggle to return. "Wait…what…"

Wolfram only groaned in response, nuzzling Yuri's neck with enough pressure to send the double black sprawling onto his back. The blonde straddled his fiancé's hips, rubbing their groins deliciously against the other.

"Yuri," Wolfram murmured, eyes glazing and mind lost.

Yuri shut his eyes tightly. "Wait," he began, "Wolfram, we…"

"Your Highness!"

Wolfram's darkening eyes slid to the side where a new opening revealed itself. The other men and Murata stumbled in roughly as if having been pushed off a slide too violently.

Conrad, instantly on his feet, noticed the two boys and jogged to them. He paused, however, upon observing their current situation. For once, the man stuttered, "Ah…Oh…Your…"

The strange air in the room seemed to growl in protest to the invasion but it faded away, lifting the curse on the two boys.

Yuri's eyes blinked into focus and he sensed Conrad's eyes. "Conrad?" he rasped, suddenly tired and dizzy. "You all are okay..."

"Oh my, Shibuya. Have you two been shagging while we nearly died?" the voice of Murata teased, his lips spreading into a beaming grin.

Yuri blinked, confused and he glanced up as a sudden weight on his body forced his breath out.

It was Wolfram.

"Wolfram!" Yuri cried, growing red and frantic at the blurry memories.

However, the blonde's eyes remained shut as his curls rested comfortably atop Yuri as if the king were a bed.

"What happened?" asked Varick, his eyes darting around like a frightened wolf. He kneeled beside Wolfram and cradled the body into his arms.

Yuri scrambled to his knees and glanced Wolfram over. "I…well…we…"

"No," Gwendel suddenly growled, his body coming into view.

The room had lightened, allowing for a completely clear view to where they were at.

Murata's eyes narrowed behind Yuri as a hissed escaped him. "Lord Weller," he gravely said.

Conrad instantly grabbed Yuri. "Come along, Your Majesty," he soothed.

"H-Hey!" Yuri protested, struggling. "Where are you taking me? What about Wolfram? Conrad, stop it!"

Wrenching free, Yuri spun around to return to Wolfram when his eyes caught what hung above them on the wall; the body tainted with scars and strung with wires so it was displayed like a beautiful ornament.

"Lady Celi," Yuri breathed.

**-x-X-x-...TBC?...-x-X-x-**

I know it wasn't very long, I apologize but I hope to compensate for that soon enough!

Should I get my butt to writing still?

Thanks,

Mirai


	7. Remind Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

I'm actually updating this, can you believe it? I'm so, so, so, tremendously sorry for the delay. The biggest goof up was that I cannot find my notes to this but I think I remember enough to continue! Thank you for the support of this story. It kept me writing it.

Because of such a delay, I tried to reply to each individual review still but I think I fumbled that up badly. I'm still trying to get back to those I think I missed but for now, I thought I could update and offer my thanks that way. Thank you SO MUCH for every single comment. Really, I appreciate them so dearly.

Forgive any errors. I did my best after a couple years of haitus!

**Warnings:**

Nothing too bad

**-x-X-x-...Remind Me...-x-X-x-**

The silence permeated the room like a rotten odor, so thick one could practically inhale it. Lady Celi's body clung to the wires for dear life. Should one snap, her body could slump over at best and tumble to the ground at worst. Eyes shut in a troubled sleep, the ex-Queen whimpered faintly, murmuring to herself as if coaxing away the nightmares.

Silence shattered when Wolfram's heart-clenching scream shook the room. "MOTHER!"

Varick visibly bounced at the shrill, instantly grabbing Wolfram's arms when he realized the boy had awoken, having his mother's near-corpse as a greeting. "Wolf-Ah…!"

"Let go of me!" the blonde ordered in a hoarse boom of a voice, shoving the man violently by the shoulder to escape. "Mother!"

The others had all taken a glance at Wolfram at the scream but it was once the boy was sprinting across the room did any of them find the nerves to move. Conrad's mind snapped into military attention and he dashed off his heels, chasing his younger brother.

"Wolfram!" he yelled in a mixture of concern and panic with what trap awaited them.

"Mother!" Wolfram shrieked again, eyes wide in absolute terror, his mind racing like a child's. "Mother, Mother, Mother…!"

In three extra sprints Conrad snatched Wolfram around the waist, using the muscles of his legs to anchor their weight, effectively allowing him to hoist Wolfram straight off his feet. "No, Wolfram! It might be a trap!" he warned through a grunt, using his other arm to pin down Wolfram's flailing arms.

"MOTHER!" Wolfram protested, kicking his legs. "Conrart, let go! CONRART!"

Yuri stared in a state of confusion and horror, his fingers twitching but his mind fell dizzy, like a dream. "Wolfram," he breathed, only shaken from his state when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Shibuya," Murata was saying, eyes stiff with seriousness.

The Demon King hitched a breath and finally nodded. Murata's hand warmed his shoulder and suddenly he felt his muscles returning to his control and the blurriness faded. Near him, Varick was rushing toward Conrad's side to restrain Wolfram while Gwendel continued to stare up at his mother's form with an almost disturbed expression.

"Wolfram," Yuri whispered, eyes narrowing. He quickly found his wits and hurried forward, chest aching. "Wolfram!"

The blonde was growling and grunting, aiming a kick at Varick's chin until Yuri's hand clasped around his ankle.

"Wolfram, listen to me!" Yuri begged, using his free hand to take hold of Wolfram's left wrist. "Look at me. Wolfram, look at me…"

Wolfram's eyes flicked down quickly, caught in Yuri's eyes. "Yuri," he said, almost calmly as the rush of emotions and memories swept in his mind again. "Greta!"

"No, she's gone, remember?" Yuri assured, swallowing to stop his trembling voice. He had to convince himself that Lady Celi was not plastered behind him at the moment or else he felt he would vomit.

"Greta," Wolfram murmured again, eyes softening.

Yuri nodded and forced a weak smile, finding the familiar Wolfram in those eyes again. "Yeah, we…we got to stay focused, okay?"

"Wolfram." Conrad loosened his hold on his brother carefully, speaking quietly so as not to startle the stressed boy. "We're all together again. If we rush forward, something worse can happen."

Wolfram shut his eyes tight, his resolve faltering and his impulses screaming at him to save his mother, find Greta, and rip apart every doll in sight. For a moment, he only heard the pounding of his own heart and the quivering sound of his breath. But a warm hand over his own brought about the last push of strength he required to open his eyes and face the challenge.

Yuri nodded and clasped his hand over Wolfram's, promising him their success in the simple touch.

"Lord Weller is right," Varick added breathlessly, the man's eyes almost sunken in. "This is surely a trap."

"What is all this?"

All but Murata turned their faces toward Gwendel, who now clenched his fists at his sides and tilted his head down. "She claims to not want Wolfram dead yet…"

Varick tensed in caution, watching the man's body language. "Even if I wanted to tell you what's happening, I am physically unable to."

Murata scanned the crowd briefly before watching the woman on the wall again. "What do you propose about this situation then?" he asked Varick, wondering over what Yuri and Wolfram had endured earlier. "Shibuya, what happened when you were separated from us?"

Blinking, Yuri surveyed around the room until he pointed in a direction. "A doll came out. She had Greta and…another little girl…she was going to kill them and…"

In a soft rasp, Wolfram finished, "I turned her riddle against her and the doll got attacked. Then Greta and the girl were swallowed by something black."

"That means they must be safe."

Wolfram and Yuri's heads snapped up hopefully.

With a nod, Varick clarified, "You successfully completed a challenge. The reward is their safety. That much I can say."

"Thank goodness," Yuri sighed heavily, one weight relived off his neck. "And now, this challenge…"

"Mother," Wolfram whispered desperately, eyes daring to catch another glimpse at the beauty strung up high.

A quick pause of silence overcame them again. Gwendel's boots clicked on the floors, startling Yuri, as the vicious sound bounced off the walls. The man was moving around the length of the room, studying the walls and angling his head to the ceiling periodically.

"If this is a challenge, I do not see anything," the man noted. "Even the door we came through is replaced by wall."

Finding himself in the same conclusion, Murata reached out and touched a painting curiously. It was almost shadowed but he was sure he could discern a form sprawled against what seemed to be thorns; it strangely resembled the same pose Lady Celi was in.

His index finger drew along the golden frame and then tempted to nudge the bump of green paint. Once he did, the bump retreated inward and the Great Sage only stared in shock before it sprung out and swallowed half his arm whole.

"Ah!" he cried out, smashing his free hand against the wall to prevent from being sucked in.

"Your Eminence!" Conrad and Gwendel shouted in unison, bolting toward the double black and grabbing him by any means available.

Yuri glanced over at the commotion and gasped, ogling the scene before him of a painting trying to swallow Murata whole. "Murata!" he warned, just as Wolfram was hurrying over to save the man.

"Brother! Conrart, look out!" Wolfram bellowed through a grimace as he held onto his side. Above the two resisting men, the painting's upper half was melting and expanding until it could ingest Gwendel's left arm and Conrad's right.

The ground began rumbling again, offsetting Wolfram's feet, causing him to stagger past his target and collide roughly into the wall. Grunting he tried to propel off his hand to grab Murata but when he was jolted back, he spun his head.

He had smashed into almost identical painting; one which was already swallowing his elbow in. "No!" he spat, thrashing against it. "Let go!"

"Wolfram!" Conrad panted, using his only free hand to snatch his brother's wrist in an effort to pull him while he still struggled with Murata's would-be-eater.

"You guys!"

Yuri growled and was already tugging hard on Wolfram's arm that Conrad had managed to salvage. "No, no, no!" he half-screamed, finding himself caught in the painting's hungry jowls. It was warm and smooth, like flexible plastic.

"Ah, Yuri, let go or you'll get swallowed too!" Wolfram cursed, gasping when he saw Varick's haunting eyes in front of him for a split of a second.

Conrad gripped harder onto Wolfram and let out a strained groan at his muscles tearing at the abuse of two strains. His face paled when Wolfram was suddenly sucked almost completely inside, half of Yuri and half of Varick grappling with the blonde's arm to rescue him.

"Go!"

Casting a glance to his right, Gwendel's eyes were narrowed and a bead of sweat trickled over a furrowed brow. "Wolfram is too weak to protect His Highness and I don't trust Varick," he croaked, following a pained sound. "Go! I'll stay with His Eminence."

Below him, Murata gasped but nodded quickly. "You have to stay with Shibuya!"

Catching his brother's gaze, Conrad clenched his jaw and passed a silent understanding through his eyes before squeezing Murata's arm. "Be safe."

He severed their connection and finally released Murata and his caught arm snapped free from the painting's grip. The moment he did, however, the vacuum of the other painting exploded and he, Wolfram, Yuri, and Varick were consumed whole just as Gwendel and Murata were by the other.

**-x-X-x-**

Inside the confines of the doll house, Miss Maiden's painted lips cracked into a tiny smile as she watched through a shimmering orb her beloved prince crash into his new challenge. Her painted fingers only moved when she scooted herself closer to the orb, her short legs hanging loosely off the majestic throne of the Demon King.

"My Prince is so handsome," she whispered mentally. The walls caught her soft voice though and they swayed ever so slightly in concurrence.

Fused into their spines were the bodies of the castle's inhabitants, soldiers and servants, alike. Their flesh turned into the fine material the wall was painted of, some of their faces creeping out from the wall with lips hung in a silent scream.

In particular, Miss Maiden kept one servant nearby, waiting for the appropriate time to use him for bait. Gunter's eyes were frozen and glazed with the deep mahogany color of the room, beautiful face caught forever in a time of fright.

"I do regret sending Lady Celi as the reward," Miss Maiden then spoke, casting a gaze to Gunter. The man could not speak nor move but she was certain he could very well hear her. "But she's so pretty. I'd like my Prince to win the challenge and save her soon."

When the walls moaned softly in return, Miss Maiden let out a quiet sound of understanding.

"Round 2, my Prince."

**-x-X-x-**

"Separated again," Wolfram commented, almost lurching over a step until Varick steadied him. He quickly jerked his arm free again, only offering the man a glare before stepping forward again.

"The Great Sage is safe with Gwendel, at least," Conrad reassured, adjusting his military coat. Yuri offered him an assured look while he caught up to Wolfram, and Varick was busy looking as ghostly as ever. Now, to survey their current predicament.

What they had been ingested inside was quite literally a painting-a childish one at that.

There was no detection of how they could escape back through the painting once they had crashed into hills colored in a deep pink. The place they inhabited now was reminiscent of being in the gardens of Covenant Castle with a few alterations, if Wolfram dared to use the term so loosely. The colors were completely at the discretion of a childish or deranged power that had repainted the fountain's water green, the grass pink or purple, and flowers unsightly brown shades.

"Perhaps this is part of the challenge to save her," Conrad suggested, walking closely to Yuri and Wolfram whenever they trailed forward even the slightest.

Wolfram found his head tilting down. "Mother," he whimpered, fingers curling into his palms.

"We'll beat this," Yuri demanded from his side, but felt his own sense of hopelessness weighing him down. He found himself pushing past the doubt though whenever Wolfram caught his eyes. The strange arousal that had been passing over himself earlier had faded but still, he hoped he could find a respite soon to ask Wolfram about it.

Little did he know how Wolfram's own memories toyed with him. He vaguely thought he and Yuri had kissed but when he had opened his eyes, he only uncovered his mother.

_Foolish thoughts. Even if something had happened, Mother is counting on us now…_

Wolfram tucked away the blurred memories and glanced up again. "Of course we will," he growled lightly, raising a hand to his own face, "I'd like to burn down this trap we're in now."

"Wolfram, no!" Varick cautioned, rushing over. "We don't know what effects magic will have around here."

Conrad glanced at the guide, having been watching Wolfram. "It might be best to listen to Lord Varick. He's the best bet we have for now."

"Fine then," Wolfram snapped, huffing softly. Through the sound, he concealed another grimace from where the throb in his body was worsening.

"Wolfram? Are you okay?"

Yuri tilted his head at the blonde, lips turned upside down.

"I'm fine," Wolfram muttered, refusing to meet Yuri's gaze this time. He pushed forward behind Varick, who had began carefully winding around a brush in hopes to leave the gardens and return to the castle.

Conrad meanwhile waited until Yuri scurried behind Wolfram so that he trailed last as a precaution. His keen eyes observed that the gardens had been rearranged to disorient them, forcing them to follow Varick.

Periodically, Conrad caught himself lingering on the blonde strands of Wolfram's tangling hair a moment longer than necessary. The boy's body tilted subtlety to one side, suggesting that the boy was favoring one side over the other.

_His injuries are being put on too much stress_, Conrad concluded, silently cursing at their inability to remedy that. He was tempted to offer Wolfram a ride on his back but the damage it would inflict on the blonde's pride might only thicken the tension between them already.

Instead, Conrad stopped trailing behind after they had passed an intersection with a fountain. "Why don't we all take a break? Maybe we can eat some of these fruits from the tree. We need to restore energy."

Yuri turned as well and was already eyeing the tree with blue fruit hungrily. "You think we can really eat them?"

"It doesn't sound safe," Wolfram protested, itching to save his mother faster.

"Ah, yes," Lord Varick began slowly, passing Wolfram and Yuri. "This is the spot. After every challenge, she has set a location for a brief respite."

He met up with Conrad at the thick trunk of the expanding tree. He motioned for Conrad to stay still and then he spread his fingers over the bark, feeling the oddly smooth texture. "It should be safe but let me do it," he requested before drawing out his blade.

Yuri was already rushing forward to catch the falling fruit as the blade flicked them from their stems. He laughed when he caught three in a row, tossing one to Wolfram, the action bringing a smile to his face.

"Hey…!" Wolfram gasped, catching the fruit sloppily. But despite his anxiety, he found his eyes relaxing at how happiness found Yuri even during their stress. "Wimp."

"I'm too hungry to argue otherwise," Yuri sighed with a flop against the grass, his back leaning against the fountain. "We can really eat it?"

Lord Varick bit into one of the fruits, sucking in the sweet morsel. "Mm-hmm," he mouthed around the juice as it washed down his throat.

While Yuri eagerly bit into his meal, Wolfram reluctantly sat near his King and did the same. His breath caught and suddenly his stomach roared, greedy for more. He had forgotten how tired and hungry he must have been.

_I guess it's testament to how much of a soldier I've become,_ Wolfram wondered, biting again into the soft texture. He glanced at the brunette a few feet away from them who ate and curiously thought if for a trained soldier like Conrad, a fresh fruit boosted up morale.

The brunette swallowed his first couple bites gratefully. "Lord Varick, perhaps you can tell us more about what's going on. Anything."

"I…I really can't," the man regretfully admitted, moving unconsciously from the man so that he remained isolated but near enough Wolfram. "You just have to…play along."

"Miss Maiden is really doing all this," Wolfram exhaled, licking his lips clean from the juices.

Yuri swallowed slowly and scooted a tad closer to the blonde. "What happened with Miss Maiden, Wolfram? I mean, maybe you know more than you realize."

The blonde's sharp eyes hid behind his eyelids as the past swarmed around him, whispering terrible things, tickling the memories of happy times, and taunting him. But suddenly, they were hushed and Wolfram could think clearly again. Opening his eyes, Wolfram caught Yuri's hand on his shoulder, silently encouraging him.

The ex-Prince nodded and studied the fruit in his hand. "I knew it was crazy that a doll was talking to me. I thought for the longest time it was my own mind playing tricks until..."

The boy's voice trailed off, leaving the sounds of the fountain's cycling water filling the void. Conrad stood beneath the tree still, resisting the urge to move closer to them.

He spoke upon Wolfram's behalf, "Miss Maiden had told him that the Luternberg Division that I was in would meet catastrophe."

"Conrad." Yuri looked over his godfather, seeing the suppressed anguish beneath those kind eyes. "You didn't believe him."

If he was ashamed, Conrad did nothing to reveal it but only shook his head. "I knew something was wrong when we met that catastrophe. I'm sure I was riled up from the battle and having seen so many deaths that when I confronted Wolfram…"

"It was just a fight," Wolfram muttered, shifting the fruit into both his hands now. "I was so scared at what she kept saying afterward. She spoke of the threatening war we're facing now and that our Kingdom would collapse. I couldn't tolerate it anymore. You saw what happens when you try to break her.

If she wouldn't leave, then I would keep her prisoner. So, I locked her in my closet, sealing it with magic. I didn't think it'd work but I couldn't hear her anymore and…it just stopped."

Yuri blinked and squeezed Wolfram's arm. "Wait, so maybe she can be stopped with magic? I mean, she was locked away. Maybe that's how-"

Varick interjected, "It will not work, Your Majesty."

"Why not? Wolfram just said it kept her quiet for years."

The man dipped forward to cup water in his hands from the fountain. "She was weaker at the time. She got more power. I cannot say more than that."

"More power?" Conrad asked, eyes narrowed on the man. "Someone gave her more power?"

Varick drank what water pooled in his palms. "I cannot say more."

"The hell you can't!"

Wolfram was on his feet, lurching aside the fruit and charging at the man despite the tearing nerves in his side. He launched forward and took the man by the collar of his cape, shaking him as much as his weaker body could muster. "I demand answers! I'm sick of these riddles and I'm sick of your lack of cooperation! Tell me, now! Mother is dying because of you!"

The man grunted at the brutality behind the force, sensing Wolfram's flames already on the tips of those fine fingertips. He did not push the boy away, however, and only looked on with a somber look. "I'm sorry, Wolfram. I wish…"

"Wolfram," Conrad's voice warned but was coated with an ease of gentleness reserved only for a select few. "We don't know everything. We can't be rash and risk everything."

The blonde scoffed and his teeth gritted in a manifestation of his inner debate to smash a fist into the man's face. He desperately craved to express his rage, sorrow, and vengeance at someone connected to this mess but all he could do was shove Varick away and lower back down onto his heels.

Yuri bit his lower lip and stood up once the tension lightened. "Wolfram," he started, gesturing to the boy. "I promise we'll get through this and have everyone safe."

The flame-powered warrior cast Varick a final dirty stare before shuffling over to Yuri. "Of course. That's what a wimp does best," the blonde managed to say nonchalantly, moving past Yuri and toward an opening squeezed between high brush.

Yuri smiled faintly at the insult but quickly lost it. "Hey, where you going?" he asked, quickly catching up to him.

"I can tell you're still hungry. I saw some berries on this side."

"Careful," Conrad cautioned after them, keeping them both in his sight. "Stay nearby. We'll move on soon."

Yuri nodded back to the brunette before crouching beside where Wolfram was ahead under another tree. "You think Lord Varick really is out to get us?"

Wolfram frowned and tugged on a couple of berries until they snapped loose. "I don't know. He's connected though and that's enough of a warning to not trust him completely," he grumbled, keeping his mind focused on the task of berry-collecting.

"He seems sad. Doesn't he?"

"You talk a lot no matter what the situation, huh?"

Yuri felt his lips broadening into a weak smile. "I guess it helps to keep me sane," he began. He moved a few feet away from his fiancé, finding a handsome clump of berries in another bush.

"Hm," was all Wolfram let out, wincing again at the strain the position put his body in.

Yuri's voice lowered a moment after as other thoughts probed his lips, "Wolfram, about what happened back in the castle. I mean, did you…We…"

Pausing, Wolfram felt his body heat up at the notion of Yuri having the same "dream" he had. Unless, that is, it was anything but a dream and instead a fading reality. "Yuri…!" he gasped, sitting back down and turning to face the double black.

But his breath caught when those dark eyes were only a mere centimeter from his own. Strangely though, Yuri's shoulders sported the familiar red cloak and respective insignia befitting of the Demon King.

"When did you get that?" Wolfram wondered, flushing further when Yuri's eyes narrowed in a suggestive manner. "Yuri?"

"Huh? Get what?" a voice called out from a short distance away.

The voice had not come from the Yuri staring directly into Wolfram's face, preparing to jump the blonde.

Daring the action, Wolfram gulped and tilted his head slightly to peer over "Yuri's" shoulder and his heart skipped a beat.

Yuri was still picking berries.

**-x-X-x-....TBC?...-x-X-x-**

Thank you so much to those who are still going to read this! I don't know how many people out there will.

Keep going? It seems so cruel to ask that after two years though. I'm so sorry!

Thank you so much again. Anyone who is reading **The Dragon's Triangle**, part 3 will be posted within a week!

Mirai Kurosaki


	8. Rape Me

**Ballet of Kings and Dolls**

Author's Notes: Wow, sorry for the delay. My laptop died among other things. I got a new one though so hurray! This chapter is the longest so far. I decided you guys deserved more! Thank you so much to everyone. I won't post a response to reviewers here because, honestly, I couldn't tell who I had sent a response back to but I'll start again from the next chapter. Thanks to EACH of you. You guys nudge me to get my butt into writing. You're awesome for that.

Warnings:

A lot: mild incest, violence, sexual scenes, and just all around disturbing stuff.

And, as always, sorry for any erros. I go back and patch it up if I notice it later

**-x-X-x-...Rape Me...-x-X-x-**

Fake Yuri groaned and stumbled back.

Like a feline, Wolfram leapt to his feet and raised his fist again. "I'll punch you where it'll hurt more if you try to kiss me again! Who are you?"

Hearing the commotion, Yuri glanced over his shoulder. He paled and froze in disbelief at seeing himself straightening. Well, it was The Demon King of himself. Daring to break his gaze from the imposter, he found Wolfram wielding his fists like weapons.

"Answer me!" Wolfram demanded through a sneer.

A sick chuckle poured over Fake Yuri's lips. He didn't speak but kept his dark eyes narrowed on Wolfram, like a vulture. He plunged forward.

Wolfram cried out and dodged by leaping to the left. Fake Yuri had a grip on his ankle and he crashed harder than expected on the grass. He bellowed in pain, clutching his side where the it flamed from the impact.

"Wolfram!" Yuri yelled and rushed forward, but was, too, jerked by a forceful hold on his wrist. He snapped his head around.

And saw Wolfram.

Or, what looked like Wolfram—in his blue uniform.

"Wolfram," Yuri breathed, staring at the inane oceanic eyes. "You're…"

Fake Wolfram purred and chuckled madly, jerking Yuri forward.

"No!" Yuri screamed and struggled, wiggling from the grip quickly. Whether Wolfram had hidden strength or Fake Wolfram was uniquely endowed with it, Yuri found himself stuck between the boy's body and the grass. "Let go!"

A foreigner's kiss prickled Yuri's lips. The lips nibbled at his neck and greedy hands squeezed along Yuri's hips, trying to coax his response. "Yuri," the stranger whimpered, using the same tone typical of Wolfram. Even Yuri couldn't suppress the shudder.

"Stop!" he begged in a pant, tensing hard when his hands were forcibly yanked to cup Fake Wolfram's rear end. Taught muscle rocked into Yuri's palm. The act served as a perfect distraction for Yuri's mental processes. He shut down and stared up as those hungry lips parted, moaning out his name again, body grinding invitingly onto Yuri.

"Your Highness!"

The weight vanished from above him, his hands empty and arms jerked on. A familiar smell alerted Yuri that Conrad was clinging to him. On the ground where he had been pinned, Fake Wolfram sat on his well sculpted rear end, face lax but smile scrolling down into a dark smirk.

Lord Varick had his weapon aimed beneath the imposter's neck. Still, the man seemed occupied studying the Fake Wolfram before the blade was raised and snapped down.

"Wait, no!" Yuri shouted, struggling in Conrad's grip. It was too late; the blade sliced down and tore the skin of Fake Wolfram before the imposter's eyes rolled into his head. The body collapsed forward and where blood should have erupted, cotton puffed out.

Lord Varick stepped aside and toed the decapitated head, noting how Fake Wolfram's eye sockets became void. "A doll," he explained.

The thought that it may have not been crossed Yuri's mind. He had the wit to pick at the argument with Varick but the man had proven more useful than anyone else in their situation. Yuri swallowed at the doll's corpse and hoped the flush of color in his face (and loins) would fade soon. He shifted against Conrad and guarded his lower half just in case anyway.

It was then Lord Varick chimed in, "Where's Wolfram?"

On cue, a frustrated cry leapt over a tall line of brush. Yuri kicked himself for his lack of awareness and bolted around the area. "Wolfram!" he called out questioningly, skidding to a halt. If the color in his face hadn't left, he was sure it did now. He paled at the sight.

Wolfram smashed his palm into Fake Yuri's face, wiggling from his cramped position against a lean statue. His legs had been forced to clasp around the imposter's hips and there was no mistaking the invader's intentions.

Disregarding prudency, Yuri charged forward and hollered as he tackled his fake self into the ground. Fake Yuri growled and hissed, both of their bodies colliding more painfully on the ground than Yuri had intended. The real Yuri was quick to scramble away to get a better handle on his position. Luckily, he didn't see a weapon on the intruder's body.

"Jealous?" Fake Yuri cooed through a mean laugh, jumping to his feet. "Or are you just bitter that I have the courage to do what you can't?"

Riled up would be an inappropriate term to describe the fuel that shot through Yuri's nerves. His face scrunched up in subtle warning before Yuri tackled his fakes self again, forcing the intruder to occupy Yuri and allow Wolfram a chance to escape.

"Yuri!" Wolfram wheezed and pushed himself up from where he fell. Needles jabbed at his wounded side and it took him all his will to repress grimacing. He staggered over but collapsed to his knees again, air knocked out of him. "Damn it."

He looked up in time to see Conrad do what he had failed to. The man barely grunted as he yanked hard on Fake Yuri's long hair. Unfortunately, the grip turned fatal when a resounding 'RIIIIP' made them stare in wonder.

The intruder's head dangled limply in Conrad's hold.

Yuri blinked and tore the headless corpse off of him, screaming in surprise. "You ripped it off!" he said accusingly, pointing at the head.

"I…" Conrad trailed off, captivated by the object in his hand. Had his hold really been so powerful? He dropped the head with a frown, watching cotton seep out from its torn skin.

"Better it be decapitated," Varick interjected. He knelt beside Wolfram and assisted the reluctant blonde up. "We should keep moving. There may be more of them."

Wolfram stood with assistance but disarmed himself of Varick soon after, making his way to Yuri. The double black was breathing heavily but studying him with a concerned expression. "You're not hurt, Yuri?" he asked, eyeing his fiancé.

Too quickly, Yuri shook his head and closed the lid of recent memories. It proved harder than he had hoped to ignore Wolfram's lips, the similar almost identical lips that had moaned his name and silently begged to be…

"I'm fine," Yuri half-squeaked. "What about you? I…He…He didn't?"

Hit with a blush, Wolfram frowned and stammered back, "O-Of course not! It's just a doll! He didn't…"

Their arguing clashed but soon trailed off, both left studying the floor. Varick killed it easily by reinstating, "We need to move."

Conrad lightly touched his godson's shoulder and guided him forward. "He's right. We need to find a way out."

"What…were those?" Yuri touched his own neck and checked his skin. Luckily, he didn't find any thread to pull or traces of stitches.

With an ushered gesture, Varick humored the double black. "They're trying to pry us apart and, maybe, set us against each other. We're sticking together from now on. No excuses."

Still caught up in an adrenaline daze, the two boys reluctantly treaded along, casting memories aside to be reevaluated when the time allowed for it. Conrad took the liberty of speaking on their behalf, "The dolls are part of the game?"

"I'm sure they're not for decoration," Varick stated. "The ones we saw are temporary…dolls. They're not particularly harmful."

"Aren't you a doll?" Wolfram reminded bitterly though his voice came as a rasp. He craved crisp, cold water.

Varick didn't blink. "Yes."

"You still won't tell us more?" Yuri partially begged, lifting his head to study the man's posture.

Varick's lips opened and closed a few times. "No."

Wolfram cursed and fisted his hands. "I can't stand riddles," he said, shaking his head. He regretted it the second after as the world spun to the left. His feet trampled over the other, pitching him hard.

Quick but gentle, Conrad steadied Wolfram with one hand. "You shouldn't walk, Wolfram," he insisted.

Before Wolfram could protest—or before Yuri could agree with the brunette—Conrad was already kneeling in front of the blonde, back arched and ready. The blonde blinked, partly to make the blurred world steady.

"Get on," Conrad ordered, providing his softest smile.

The look Wolfram shot him was anything but willing. Yuri sighed and got the nerve to hold Wolfram's arm carefully. "Wolfram," he pleaded, "we have to keep moving but you're obviously not recovered completely. F-For me?"

It took a few seconds longer than expected but the blonde brushed off Yuri's hand with a snort and shyly crept onto Conrafd's back, clinging to the man's neck as he was scooped up. Conrad clasped his hands together and snuggly fit them against Wolfram's thighs. They pushed forward without another utterance.

Varick took the lead, pausing cautiously at intersections. With the potential for other dolls to pop up, the man took precaution. Luckily, the closest thing to a hindrance they had was when they found themselves circling a particular area thrice. But, after a brief contemplation, Varick had them led out onto a new path.

There, they saw the enormous playhouse attached to the castle's east side.

"What the hell," Varick muttered, resting both hands on his hips. The playhouse was strangely familiar and he wondered if he'd seen it before.

"It's Greta's!" Yuri gasped, realizing his daughter's small toy was now an expansion pact on the castle. The sight of it made his heart flip. He prayed she was indeed safe and soothed of any fears.

Wolfram shared the sentiment, his arms unconsciously tightening. "We have to go in here?"

Varick looked back at him and replied, "Yes. Though what's inside, I'm not sure. But once we get through, we should find a way back into the mansion and, hopefully, meet the others."

Without much options, the group pressed through the end of the garden and approached the large door. With a gesture, Varick had the group stay a safe distance away as he opened the door. "This way," he assured after sneaking a glance inside.

"I have a bad feeling," Wolfram mumbled into Conrad's shoulder, feeling his weight triple. He blamed it on the fact that Conrad's back had served more comfortably than one would think.

Conrad only squeezed his brother's legs in acknowledgment, bringing a new blush to Wolfram's face. Their position tickled past memories of piggy-back rides through the gardens (without the drama of obsessed dolls) and Wolfram realized he'd gratefully accept that day over this one.

At his side, Yuri was watching him, hand caught in mid air as if he had made to touch Wolfram. The blonde noticed it and stared questioningly. Without giving much thought into the action, Wolfram lowered one arm and wrapped his fingers around Yuri's hand.

Yuri stiffened but didn't retract from the surprise. He nodded shakily and returned the grip. "We're almost there," he whispered, suspecting Conrad would still be able to hear them.

The former Prince nodded, a bit tiredly, and returned his arm around Conrad. "Of course," he said in his best effort to sound dignified. "We have a wedding to plan. This isn't going to stop that."

Conrad chuckled gently, relieved at the comment. He shifted Wolfram once and finally entered after Yuri followed Varick. Inside, Greta's playhouse pieces were situated the way she had left them—Wolfram remembered as he had been the last one to play with it beside her. Greta had a quirk about making the dining table half lengthwise in the dining room space.

Curious, Yuri approached the table and tapped on it lightly. His hand wrapped around an edge and he lifted it. "Oh my gosh!"

Lord Varick stepped up and lightly yanked the table into his own palm. "It's lightweight," he confirmed, bouncing the furniture a couple times for good measure before setting it down.

"Like the real playhouse." Wolfram peeked over the batch of brown hair. To their right, a very welcoming couch with choice of two throw pillows taunted him. "Put me down."

Conrad understood and backed up to the desired spot. Carefully, he unlatched his fingers and let Wolfram slide off. "Is it comfortable?" the man asked curiously, crouching to tap the couch. It. Having expected plastic, Conrad was pleasantly surprised at how soft it was. "Oh."

"It feels light though," Wolfram muttered, shifting slowly. He worried his weight might cause it to collapse.

He wasn't expecting a response but he had hoped someone would stretch out the conversation as thin as it would go—anything to keep the silence from filtering back. Varick lowered the table but had retreated into his own thoughts while Yuri continued to steal shy, furtive glances at Wolfram.

"Maybe there's food in here," Conrad finally said, relinquishing his voice to the silent room, "I'll check the kitchen."

"Don't."

Varick turned on his heels and faced the dark corridor that served as the hallway ahead of them. A soft padding of sounds answered Conrad's question before he had even asked it. One by one, the lights pressed against the hallway flicked on, casting a shadow first, and then exposing a small and dainty form.

"Another one," Yuri shuddered at the sight of the porcelain face, tweaked with a cryptic smile and eye balls colored in blue.

She rested her hands on her dress, curled them, and lifted the hem of her white dress. Her curtsy went unappreciated but elicited a different response. Varick's blade was whipped out again and poised above her bowed head.

"Killing me will trap you in this house, Lord Varick," she warned in a sweet tone. It lacked the malice and instability that Wolfram had been expecting.

Varick didn't lower his weapon but neither did he slice her in two. He did, however, bop her atop the head with the flat surface. She snapped her neck up quickly enough to make Yuri and Wolfram cringe, anticipating her head would roll off from the violent act.

The doll straightened again and Wolfram angled his vision to see her not even reaching Lord Varcik's knees (though he was rather tall overall). Two ribbons held her hair back in an intricate braid and with the little hair around her face, her broadened smile was that much more noticeable.

"Why don't you have a seat, Lord Varick?" she suggested, twisting one of her fingers in a circular motion in the air.

In four seconds flat, Lord Varick was disarmed by an invisible force and his limbs snatched by the same ominous presence that would slam him again a dining room chair. His grunts proved the man was struggling but beyond that, he was stiff and stuck.

"Lord Varick!" Yuri reached for the man but was, too, jerked into a dining room chair.

The violent act drew out hoarse cries from the brothers. They both hauled tail toward Yuri until they felt the invisible strings coil around their body and forced them to sit as well. At this point, all four of them sat around the dining room table as if waiting for a meal to be brought out.

"What…!" Conrad jerked at his fingers, hoping to draw out his sword. A force snagged it free and tossed it at the doll's feet.

She stepped over the object and smiled delightfully. "Now we can all play together."

"Play?" Yuri said, unsure. While his hold wasn't exactly painful, whenever he'd try to shift, the wires controlling him almost bit into his skin. "What is this?"

The doll disregarded him and pointed to Conrad. "You're going to be the Daddy, alright? And you," she turned and aimed a glossy finger at Wolfram, "the Mommy."

"Mommy?" Wolfram gawked. He was certainly no woman and not exactly comfortable being paired up with anyone other than Yuri, let alone his own half-brother. "This is not play time! Release us at once!"

With an undignified yelp, Yuri was kicked out of his seat and tugged along against his own volition to the kitchen. "You're the butler!" the doll said as he trailed into the kitchen. "And you…"

Varick tensed visibly. With a wave of the doll's hand, he was ripped from his seat and pinned to the wall, arms above his head. His words lodged in his throat as he sank into the wall, bit by bit, until it swallowed part of the back of his legs and arms, and curled around his sides.

"You're a decoration," she said with a satisfied nod. With a little dance to her steps, she crawled awkwardly into a seat between Conrad and Wolfram. "We're having soup tonight!"

Wolfram growled loudly. "What kind of game is this? Aren't we given a chance to win? We're trap! Are you dolls so disho-"

"Mommy needs to be quiet, please."

"How dare you! Is that how you would speak to your mother?" Wolfram barked, thrashing in his restraints. Well, it was more of him waddling in his seat than anything else.

The doll's expression drained the lighthearted smile and amused eyes. New emotions painted her face darkly, and none of them were very good. At one point, the brothers thought they even saw sadness drape over her.

But Wolfram didn't let up. "Miss Maiden!" he snapped, trying to kick his legs free. "Where are you? I'm done with your game! Let me out! Let me go! LET ME G-Mmph…!"

Nothing short of horror made Wolfram gasp and Varick gape at what happened. The invisible strings playing them had jerked Conrad forward and smack-dab into Wolfram's face with what, dreadfully, was a sloppy kiss. It was forced, lips smushed against lips, with both parties terrified to gasp out a protest—save for Wolfram's initial reaction.

Blood stained Wolfram's skin with a fuming and humiliated blush. Conrad shared the latter expression and his eyes collected what sympathy he could in the awkward position. His hands were forced to grip the back of Wolfram's chair and the table, half pinning the blonde to his seat.

_I'm going to kill her!_

Wolfram muffled his words against Conrad's lips, feeling the words try to escape from him and be shouted, shrieked even until he found the energy to burn everything to the dirt. Sweet revenge never came though as he Conrad's strings were tugged back to break their contact.

"W-" The man had tried to speak instantly but was roughly shoved back into the seat. He groaned and granted the doll a nasty look—one he had reserved for such opponents worthy of it.

"I'll kill you!" Wolfram bellowed, wiggling again, eyes wildly on the doll.

She giggled and hid her face behind small hands. "Daddy kissed Mommy but Mommy keeps talking!"

Varick jumped in before Wolfram could prompt the doll into further action. "What's the game?" he ordered threateningly.

The giggles ebbed and she looked back at Varick. She was clearly annoyed. "We play House."

And House they played. Yuri, oblivious to what had transpired, returned stiffly with a quaint meal. Only his flicking eyes suggested he was in any discomfort. Their voices finally lost themselves to the strings that tackled their vocal chords once the soup had been forced down the brothers' throats. The two could only assume Yuri had been forced to do the same as the double black didn't speak beyond a polite albeit forced butlerly comment. Varick, while neglected of the torture, kept his own tongue in check and studied the scene unfold.

Dinner conversation orbited around the doll. She was praised by both "parents" reluctantly and doted on with Wolfram's fingertips and Conrad's firm voice. Beaming wouldn't adequately capture her childish delight or do justice to her bounce when dinner was over. Yuri, forced to remain still, watched with a sinking gut how Conrad rested a hand on Wolfram's back in a mocking gesture of love.

_Woflram! Conrad!_

Behind him, Varick narrowed his eyes at the doll. "Your Highness," he whispered. "This will turn bad."

Yuri flicked his eyes to the man, hoping the act could be noted by the wall ornament. It seemed to do the trick because Varick continued in a low utterance, "This doll, I recall her. She's going-"

With another yank, Yuri moved forward unwillingly, breaking the distance that allowed him to hear Varick's words. He screamed in frustration but his lips were forced to coil as he bowed before the doll and retreated to the hallway. He was taken to one of the rooms—one he realized which was far less extravagant than the master bedroom.

Back in the living area, the doll spent a half hour chatting to her "parents" about the friends she made at her private school. Wolfram and Conrad nodded proudly and engaged back but their eyes continuously surveyed the area in the hopes of reading any signs for escape. They found none and Wolfram wouldn't dare meet his brother's gaze for any hints of one.

Finally, the doll began rubbing her eyes and raised her arms up. Conrad lifted her and had her tucked into one arm while the other ushered Wolfram down the hall. Briefly, they caught Yuri sitting obediently on the bed of the neighboring door. All they shared was a desperate and fleeting glance before they had entered the doll's room. It was Greta's personal favorite as she had spiced it up with all things pretty and flower-like to suit a little girl's dream room.

With a final kiss to the doll's forehead from each parent, Wolfram found himself forced into the master bedroom, where he laid out on his back. The bed was light feeling yet cushioned his body comfortably, draped in a silky blanket that the blonde recognized had been part of one of his formal uniforms; it had a tear from an assignment one day and rather than discard it, he had offered it to an eager Great to makeshift it into a plush and use for her playhouse.

His heart hurt and he wished he had the luxury of rubbing his chest. Conrad stayed at the doorway and said—in a strangely loud voice—that he was going to head out to the Victorian ball that Doctor WhatWasHisName had prepared for the night. Wolfram cringed as his head nodded without his approval. Conrad's shadow vanished and he heard the front door open and close.

He was left alone.

_What to do now? Is Yuri forced to sit there? Is Lord Varick alright? And Conrad…Oh, I'm going to rip that doll's head off and smash it into a wall! _

Huffing was the best Wolfram could do. He tested out the strings again and felt them nip at his skin when he tried to wiggle out. The injury to his side proved enough of a nuisance and, even if he could, escaping from the strings would abandon him limb-less. He decided to contemplate his options and tuck his thirst for vengeance into a pocket.

Only minutes must have passed when the blonde caught the distinct sounds of footsteps approaching. If there was one thing he still had control over, it was his military senses born from training. The ability to distinguish sounds had, once again, proved handy. Well, it would have could he have done something about the fact that it was Yuri forced into the room's doorway.

"Y-Y…" Wolfram gagged on his own tongue, cursing internally when he was denied speech. Instead, he was obligated to say with inflection, "Warren?"

Yuri's eyes softened in understanding, hoping it would be enough to quell Wolfram's concern. "Georgia."

Wolfram felt more insulted that it was Yuri's voice calling him by a woman's name. Jerked to sit up, the blonde stared at his fiancé. The boy had just shut the door partly, leaving it carelessly ajar. "I didn't call you over," his voice said.

"You didn't have to," Yuri—or rather, Warren—was saying in the King's voice.

Were they taking the rolls of familiar characters from a novel? While there was no invading spirit in them, they might as well have been possessed for the next moment was washed out in a violent act. Yuri had crossed the room (still stiffly though as the boy resisted) and curled his fingers roughly into Wolfram's shoulders, forcing them down as his body leapt on the blonde's in a straddling motion.

Air knocked out of Wolfram and he managed to wince at the pressure Yuri's knee had against his side. "What are you doing?" he cried out too soon for Wolfram's liking—he had barely caught his breath. The cry was forced but Wolfram shared its sentiment.

"I see the looks you offer me when your husband's attention wanders from yours. He's a fool to ever give anyone the privilege to cast eyes upon you. I'd never squander a moment with you by taking my eyes off of you like he does!" Yuri panicked in his mind, flicking his eyes around again. They settled back down on the blonde, whose expression borderlined fear.

He couldn't decipher if the countenance was forced but Yuri had the sickening suspicion that it wasn't. His fingers had curled harder into Wolfram's shoulder once more before his right hand shabbily tore the front of Wolfram's garment.

Georgia's protests jumped off Wolfram's lips as Yuri's familiar lips spread over his neck, nipping hungrily at the flesh. Wolfram's voice choked on itself, unsure though if it was a result of his own internal anguish or the slip up of those controlling the strings. The King's tongue dipped into a weak spot and lapped at it with the tip of the organ. It curled and traced loving patterns through heated pants while Yuri's hands brushed under the ripped outfit.

The left one found a sensitive patch and two fingers rolled around the tiny nub until it forced a delicious noise from the trembling voice. Wolfram stared at the ceiling in sheer terror and bemusement, only given the mercy to cling onto Yuri's back. They shifted soon though as Yuri's lips caught his own, his own fingers rushing under Yuri's clothing to feel the growing muscles beneath the taught skin. For the briefest sane second, Wolfram noted how strong Yuri's body had become from the year plus of training.

The sudden thought that this body would force its way further on him struck more dead butterflies into his stomach.

_Yuri…! Yuri! Not like this…!_

The blonde's body responded hungrily, driven by the puppet master's doing and the primal lust capped away by most rational men. It faltered as his tongue was painfully lurched forward from where it coiled away from Yuri's in the hopes to help the double black gain his (and Wolfram's own) senses. The string had their tongues wrapped around each other, bumping noisily and sucking on each other's even louder.

Almost tenderly, Wolfram felt Yuri's fingers drop from his chest to his (surprisingly) exposed thighs. Yuri's hips lowered until their groins rested against one another's snuggly and both gasped willingly in the heated kiss—recognizing the reluctant hardening of both their members.

"A-Ah," Wolfram tried to speak into Yuri's mouth, drowning in the warm hands that greedily raked up his thighs and gave his rear end a tempting squeeze. The same hand cupped him and rolled their hips together until their erections were sliding impatiently along each other's.

Even as Yuri found defeat in the daze, even as he pressed against the window of his eyes, he still felt the flushed euphoria stabbing at him from all directions; his back where Wolfram's nails drew lines, his hair that Wolfram tugged, and his becoming naked hips from where Wolfram's calves rubbed against them. In the disgusted confines of his actions, Yuri bawled inside at how aroused his body had become.

_I'm so sorry, Wolfram…_

With Wolfram's unwilling assistance, his pants had been stripped, leaving only a thin line of a fabric as a barrier to their hardened lengths. Wolfram tipped his head back with a heavy purr and his body arched into Yuri's as the double black dropped his unquenched lips onto his chest, sucking in a nipple, letting the surface of his tongue roll over it and lips tug on it playfully.

Wolfram moaned and then sharply cried out, shuddering hard. He knew the tingles in his spine that made him jolt weren't any doing of the puppet master. Through a possessive growl that Yuri unleashed, Wolfram dared himself to look at the patch of black hair signaling where Yuri's head was. It may have been his own mind pushing the strings, but his fingers rose and threaded through the soft hair, jerking on it to pry the boy off slightly.

Through a much needed intake of air, Yuri rasped and stared at Wolfram's helpless face. He met the gaze and poured his sorrow into his eyes. When he thought he'd meet Wolfram's repulsed fury, the blonde had returned a similar (gently coaxing?) look.

"W…Wo-" Yuri stammered, his heart escaping into his throat. His eyes were growing heavy and the rage that could only be calmed by an explosion of force known as The Demon King finally reached his brain.

Wolfram's face flashed to the side as the door creaked open, shedding in too much light into the room. Flinching from it, Wolfram tired to peer away. He was kept still until he saw the tiny doll's form stepping out from behind Conrad's.

_Oh…no…_

"Mommy," the doll whispered, her voice still trailing into the room like a breaking echo. "You promised. You promised you'd stop the first time. I saw you in the kitchen with him. I saw you kiss. You said it was an accident."

The butterflies piled up into Wolfram's chest by now as the hypnotic words were repeated like a record player needing fixing. Conrad didn't fair much better, his body chugged forward and expression genuinely confused at the position he found the two boys.

"G-Georgia," the brunette said brokenly thanks to Conrad's relentless resistance.

Yuri stayed hunched over Wolfram's half naked form, his long hair tickling Wolfram's exposed and marked neck. A compelled shout of rage exploded from Conrad and his hand snatched out an item from the drawer—one that wasn't a part of Greta's original collection; a gun.

Even Wolfram didn't have the speed to outshout a bullet's launch. It tore through the barrel and aimed directly at the boy. Coils tore from the double black's body and propelled the onslaught into a nearby wall, the sound ricocheting loudly and grating Wolfram's already fried nerves.

The Demon King rose his head slowly, with extraneous effort. Twitching, streaks of blood popped loose as the strings that bound him snapped loose, one by agonizingly one, until his arm had raised high enough. Dragons screeched to life as they ripped out from his fingertips and swallowed up what restraints held him still while one crashed the gun from Conrad's hand.

Conrad obliged forward, body tackling into The King's, to his brutal amazement. Having openly assaulted his own King branded a painful memory already into the soldier's mind as he found himself in a wrestling match with The Demon King, whose own strength suffered from a drought. His eyes flickered between the serpent-like slits and Yuri's wide eyed expression, hair flickering between short and long, and strength surpassing the baseball lover's only in rare peaks of The Demon King's display.

_I'm…so weak_, Yuri heard his other self growl inside. He felt it too; his body was zapped of energy and his mind abused from the trauma of what had just transpired. Now, he stared down in dismay at the trusted and breaking face of his godfather.

"C-Con…rad," he was managing to say with what flourishing spike of power he was granted by his other self. "I…I…"

On the bed, held down by the omnipotent powers of the doll, Wolfram heard the struggles and the murmuring of the doll. She had taken two steps in to study the gun that had been blown away. "Daddy is upset," she whimpered to Wolfram, "he kills Warren, hurts Mommy, and then when he sees me watching…"

Wolfram shut his eyes tightly, knowing the act was childish and wouldn't grant him the pleasure of going deaf. He tugged at the restraints on his wrist, hoping if he could at least release the hold there, he'd have a chance. Nothing came though from his tugging, his body beyond depleted of energy. He was nothing more than a rag doll.

He wanted to scream again.

Yuri cried out hoarsely as his back crushed into the wall, remnants of The Demon King expired. His body collapsed to the side and he lay there, limp. Though he was conscious, his eyes merely fluttered open and closed, reality slipping further and further from him.

_What…Am I going to do?_

He was unsure if he saw Conrad crawling on the bed where Wolfram remained. He wasn't sure if the horrified yelp had come from the blonde since his own blood was gushing into his ears and making it difficult to distinguish one sound from another.

The sound, however, had come from Wolfram. It had actually been a stifled pained howl because Conrad's large hand had lodged itself around Wolfram's windpipe and had no intention of releasing anytime soon. The blonde's arms were dragged to cling on the powerful arm, his eyes staring up at Conrad but he lacked the much needed energy to spare anything more than a glazed look.

_Conrart…You look so sad_. It was the only other thing besides Wolfram's concern for Yuri that the former Prince could muster.

The man looked miserable in fact. His face was contorted, body tense and yet twitching with what willpower the brunette stirred up. His body was pressed between Wolfram's thighs and the other hand poised to rip off the remainder of Wolfram's clothing.

But the tearing never came. Tiredly, Wolfram studied those kind eyes shut tightly and the hand around his clothing began to move.

_No…!_

It slowly began to lift, releasing Wolfram's garment and the same snaps that had pricked Yuri's skin to bleed bit at Conrad. The man's fist trembled, almost snapping back down with the force of a particularly painful yank but Conrad only hollered and jerked back just as hard. His skin exploded and blood gushed into his uniform from where the strings broke against his skin.

"Con…"

The man's eyes opened and a fierce determined albeit gentle had his eyes crinkling. His lips parted and he coughed violently, gagging as blood seeped from his mouth and then across his entire body as he amazingly, violently, and stupidly wrenched away from Wolfram in one successful move.

Conrad staggered and collapsed onto the floor hard, spewing up blood, one hand shakily pressing into his neck to put pressure on the most severe wounds. Before him, two tiny and polished shoes met him. The doll stared down in wonder at the man now sprawled in agony on the dark carpet.

"Daddy," she questioned, stepping back fearfully.

Foolish as he already was, Conrad shot his free hand and had his bloody fingers around a thin ankle. The doll shrieked in horror and clawed at her shiny face.

"Let go!" she bawled and screamed as she was yanked to fall on the ground. Her temple nipped the carpet hard enough to crack her beautiful skin and she thrashed violently at the impact. Visible wires erupted from her broken skin and snagged around Conrad's arm, tugging bit by bit.

The man screamed as the strings tugged until the sickening pop of his shoulder dislocating broke his shouting in two. He let out an uneasy exhale, narrowed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around the strings. Fire burned his arm from the simple act and he bit his already wounded tongue to stifle another yell of agony.

"Lord Weller! Lord Weller, let go!"

Knowing the voice, Conrad obeyed and dropped his forehead to the carpet in exhaustion. Lord Varick cut loose the string and earned the room another yell from the doll as her wires convulsed madly at the abuse. "I'm sorry it took so long," was all Varick offered before he was whirling around and snapping the wires that made to strike at them again. "Stupid girl!"

The doll roared and slammed her hands onto the carpet. "I'll kill you all! Look what you did to my Mommy! You're all going to die! You're going to die for taking away my revenge!"

"Not likely," Varick returned smoothly, cracking his left fingers back into place and then his neck. Wolfram heard the sounds and was internally grateful he didn't have to see what the man was doing to produce the terrible noises.

"You!" The doll flared up at the Lord's presence. "You stupid, unwanted, piece of trash! I should have ripped you apart the first time we met!"

Lord Varick skipped to the side and drove his blade into her leg, severing it off. Her scream died in a nauseous gag as the splintering of her body left her with only a gaping hole and blood. It had just touched the carpet when Lord Varick drew back his sword and plunged it into her shoulder, pinning her to the ground.

"I'll grant you a sure death," he said quietly to her.

The doll stumbled over her own choking sobs and shook her head wildly. Her hair came loose and one hand rubbed furiously at her face. "No! I don't want to die!" she blubbered, "Save me! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

Wolfram opened his eyes feebly and dropped his head to the side, watching the doll meet his stare. She was painted pure, unadulterated terror. The strings were trying to move his body weakly in hopes to pull him toward the doll.

"W…Wait…"

Yuri croaked and heard Conrad gasp his name. The King was shuddering on all fours, grappling to make his way toward the doll but he collapsed twice before the brunette was at his side already.

"Your Highness!" Conrad's voice was barely a wheeze.

"V-Varick," Yuri insisted, gently brushing Conrad's hand away. He gathered up on all fours again. "You…Were saying…you knew her…"

Lord Varick hesitated and opted to stay looming over the doll in the event she break free again. "Yes," he admitted, "I saw this coming. When you were forced to leave my side I had to dislocate my body to squeeze out as I knew…"

Wolfram wished he could call Yuri's name. He could only observe as his fiancé shockingly dragged himself, despite Conrad's protests, to the broken porcelain on the carpet.

"You're…alive," Yuri said in a murmur, eyes heavy and heart hammering. He hurried to lightly rest a hand on her dark hair, knowing he could pass out on the spot. "You…had a life?"

The doll sniffed and wept quietly but eventually, she nodded. Again, she rubbed at her eyes.

"You saw something bad and were hurt," Yuri assumed, chuckling. It was so weak that it came out as a shaky breath. "You didn't do anything wrong. I bet you tried to help your Mommy, h-huh?"

"…Mommy."

Yuri shut his eyes a moment to regain himself. Slowly, he returned her a sweet look as he stroked through her tangled hair, mindful not to spill more blood on her. "It's okay, n-now, really…"

The doll stared up in wonder, taken aback by the uncalculated tenderness. Her expression shifted again, scribbled over with something guilty, fearful, and lonely. Yuri allowed her time to collect her thoughts as he hovered his hand over her hurt leg. He winced when his healing abilities came as a sharp prick to his hand; he was too weak.

Again, he looked back at the doll and smiled. "S-Sorry. I guess there's not much left in me right now," he apologized, resting a hand back on her hair.

Her lower lip jutted out and she reached up. Knowingly, Yuri lowered his hand to her and squeezed it. Wires shred loose from her broken skin, leaving Yuri to cry out in fright as they shot at his face. A guttural cry, and a throaty gasp later, Yuri realized he never would be hit. The wires fluttered lifelessly to the floor, draping over the doll's dead eyes.

Before the others could recalculate the process, Lord Varick drew out his weapon from where it had snapped her chest in two. He didn't bother to wipe the blade clean and he sheathed it. Hard eyes met Yuri and he shook his head: there was no other option.

Yuri dropped his head and gasped quietly, feeling tears trickling. He glanced over his shoulder and said, "I thought…I could…"

His eyes were on Wolfram, whose own eyes remained on Wolfram even as Lord Varick assited him by bringing him a robe, conveniently, found in the second drawer. "Yuri," the blonde finally could say, and with the man's aid, staggered to his beloved.

The double black, Wolfram, and Conrad had made a circle in how they sat around each other, beside the doll's corpse. Emotions swept through them, not all which could be identified. Yuri was the first to express them all in one single motion: he snatched both of their neck and drew them into a tenacious hug.

Wolfram shut his eyes tightly and shakily wrapped both his arms around Yuri's partially bared body—the boy only had his boxers and top on still. Conrad gripped his godson with one arm and hesitated in touching Wolfram but instinct overwhelmed him. His other, blood soaked arm curled around Wolfram's shoulders. The blonde tensed then it fell quickly but whether it was from sheer exhaustion or understanding, Conrad hadn't the time or mental energy to decide.

Aside, Lord Varick exhaled and stepped out of the room to allow the three a moment to piece back together enough sanity to let them move forward. Ahead, down the hall, he could see a door opening in reward for the efforts.

"Wonderful," the human doll drawled, stepping forward to study the house more thoroughly. He almost jumped when he saw a passing mirror reflect something that was not his reflection.

Miss Maiden smiled very slowly.

Lord Varick narrowed his eyes in disgust. "I don't know whether to punch you in the face or vomit on the mirror."

"You can't vomit," Miss Maiden replied knowingly.

Lord Varick's eyebrow quirked up. "Enjoying the show?"

"No but I can pretend to if you want."

"Don't lie. You're nothing but filth."

Miss Maiden didn't flinch. "The war is almost engaging outside the walls. Then, when they're busy, we make our move."

Looking to the side, Lord Varick lowered his voice. "I want nothing more to do with this game."

"You'll lose your chance at a body if you forfeit."

Lord Varick glared at the doll. "He told you about that?"

Miss Maiden nearly jumped out of the mirror with interest. "I am his favorite, after all."

"Actually, you're not," Lord Varick let the words fall heavily on the doll. It worked; her painted face faded back into something dark and enigmatic.

"I'll make note of your interference in this game. You weren't supposed to help them that much, only guide my Prince."

Lord Varick faced the mirror fully. "I've decided."

The beautiful doll tilted her head in a curious way.

"I'll settle for the former."

Lord Varick smashed his fist into the mirror.

**-x-X-x-...TBC?...-x-X-x-**

And it will be clarified later on, but yes, the doll had a past life as a human (supposedly). That is what Yuri and Varick were referring to. No one was possessed by a spirit, only by the doll's "strings. She made them take the roles of her mother, father, and the family butler to relive a traumatic event she had as a child (human perhaps?) that left her with a thirst for justice. Or, she's just really messed up and is stuck in her head reliving that terrible, fateful night.

What did you think? *hides and pokes head out* Nudge me to keep going? Nudge me to see a psychiatrist?

Many hugs,

Mirai Kurosaki


	9. Meet Me

**Author's Notes:** Wow! Anyone remember this story? Thank you to those who have continued to support this story. I can only hope some of you are still reading this.

This is an extremely long chapter. This is actually three chapters put into one. It was the least I could do for being away so long. I'm sorry I didn't break it up into smaller chapters if that's a bother to anyone.

Anyway, forgive any errors. I did my best to comb through this lengthy piece. There's a lot of characters to bounce around from, though Wolfram is still the priority.

Just a little note. Dividers like this: **-x- **is more of a point of view jump in the current scene rather than a major scene change, which follows this instead: **-x-X-x-**

**Warnings:**

Violence, light graphic details

**-x-X-x- …Meet Me... –x-X-x-**

Wolfram felt awful. His body, pushed to near exhaustion, barely compared to how his mind faired. So many emotions, none of them good, tumbled around in him. With time he could probably name them all. Until then, he felt them weave in and out of each other and push against his temples, his eyes, and chest. The only remotely good quality was that they had been rewarded by seeing Lady Celi released.

Her release brought life into Wolfram's lungs and he let out the longest breath he could. He opted to put his fury on the pedestal of his emotions, fury at the doll he once treasured so long ago and found solace in. Any other emotion might be too dangerous to venture into given their predicament.

At the same time, he gathered his soldier's training and accepted the drink Lord Varick had brought. Wolfram stared at the water, vaguely hearing the man speak of where he got it. All Wolfram saw was the distorted image of a living area they currently occupied. He wondered what other memories stained the carpets, what secrets the walls kept under their paint.

Wolfram took a shaky sip of the water.

"I'm sorry," Lord Varick said. Wolfram realized the man was speaking to him.

Swallowing and grimacing at the cold chill that grabbed his nerves. He didn't answer the man, instead sneaking a glance to Yuri, who was also having his fill of water. During the embrace they had shared, they heard glass break and it broke their moment together. Though Lord Varick had eased their minds about it, Wolfram still found himself stuck in the moment before the shatter; something had pulled them all together, to press close and cling to one another for fear of who knew what else. Wolfram didn't want to think about what had happened but he wondered if it hadn't been for the shattering, would they have ever let each other go.

Yuri glanced at him and Wolfram could tell Yuri battled with his emotions as well. His optimism and kindness overpowered anything else as he reached out and went back to healing Conrad's injuries.

Now everything felt more vile. Wolfram studied the cup in his hand, which had weighed so heavily only moments earlier. Either his strength hadn't abandoned him completely or he was on the verge of losing touch with reality. He couldn't even feel his voice, even locate where it could be.

Yuri spoke though back to Lord Varick. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, his voice weak but still lined with optimism. "I…we just," he trailed off, collected himself, then finished, "I felt bad for her in the end. I wonder if all them had a sad story. I wonder if things could have been different."

"She had to die. Perhaps she is in a better place now," Lord Varick tried, kneeling beside Conrad to tend to his injuries as well. Yuri had already spent himself once on the man already.

Wolfram didn't have the energy to shoot Varick a look. He was sure no one else believed she was in a better place. If anything, she was a memory the walls whispered about in this wretched house. They had to get out.

"At least Mother is free," Conrad reminded, eyes trying to stay open. His injuries had done a number on him but he knew they'd heal—and Lord Varick had secured his shoulder back in place. He wasn't sure how well the other two would handle the mental burden of the incident.

"Hm." Wolfram set the cup down and pressed his forehead to his hands. They weren't in the room any longer yet still the stench of the sheets that had felt seared into his skin permeated the room, mingling in with Conrad's blood.

"Wolfram…?"

Wolfram shut his eyes tighter at Yuri's soft voice. Pain bubbled beneath his eyelids and something akin to rage spurned his ability to speak and shift. "We have to keep moving," he said, scowling at how meek his voice sounded.

"Wait, Wolf-"

"We can't wait!" Wolfram whirled around, regretted the act, and clung to a table to prevent from tipping. "Miss Maiden. Look what she's done and it's my fault," he shot Yuri a hard look, "Don't try to tell me otherwise! I'm not going to stop here. I'm not going to mourn over a doll that tried to have us killed."

He wasn't going to break down. A soldier didn't do that, Wolfram didn't do that. His hand trembled against the table and he was surprised it wasn't already rattling under his touch. A soldier, he reminded himself. Duties came before anything personal, Yuri came before anything else; he had to protect Yuri.

Conrad and Yuri had soft eyes and Wolfram didn't think he could take another second of them. To his brief satisfaction, he didn't have to: the floor beneath them rumbled and sprung to liquid life.

"Yuri…!" Wolfram's cry drowned, his body—along with the others'—too quickly engulfed by the floor.

He had fallen into a black abyss that quickly cleared and grew warm around him. Water cuddled him, even seemed to nudge him in a direction that took him deeper into the pit. With little choice and breath hitching, his body moved deeper, only to break the surface. Sweet air filled his lungs again. The world aligned itself and he could hear the others gasping as well.

"Yuri? Conrart?" he called out blindly, coughing and shaking his eyes of heavy water.

"Over here," he heard Conrad say somewhere to his left. He didn't sound as tired as before.

When his vision cleared, Wolfram saw Varick reach down and pull him out onto a smooth surface. Wolfram scrambled around and quickly found Conrad and Yuri out of the water as well, water that Wolfram saw was in the large space of one of the bathing areas of the castle. Most likely it was part of the distorted castle Miss Maiden had a spell on and not the castle they called home.

"We're back?" he panted, steadying onto his feet to rush to Yuri. He looked over his fiancé and found no sign of foul play. Furtively, he did a once over on Conrad as well and found him equally unharmed.

Actually, there was no harm at all evident on the man. "Conrart, your injuries…"

The brunette looked down at the mentioning, patting himself down in the process. "They're gone. Wolfram?"

"Mine too." Wolfram confirmed by pressing harder into his side. Nothing. No searing ache or bile building up in his throat. He automatically faced Lord Varick, expecting him to elaborate.

The man shrugged a shoulder and wrung out the end of his shirt. Water collapsed back onto the surface as he spoke, "I can only assume we need to be at full health for out next task. That, or Miss Maiden pities us."

"Yes." The voice sobered them up instantly. On the other side of the bath, a doll waited for them. Her face had a less sinister or mischievous touch to it but Wolfram didn't let that dissuade him. Her feet were bare and she wore a one piece, frilled bathing attire. "This way," she said, "You may rest ahead."

"What of the puzzles?" Conrad said, fingers scrambling for his sword, only to find it gone.

The doll turned her back to them. "No puzzle. Rest," she insisted, walking ahead without them.

Wolfram was quick to glance at Lord Varick.

The man's face was too unreadable, possibly because of his nonhuman descent, but Wolfram had still gotten the impression something was different about their guide. "We can follow her," Lord Varick said, without looking at any of them. He helped Yuri and Conrad to their feet and trailed behind the doll without another word. Though her feet looked clean, each step left a red footprint behind.

So, they followed with wariness, heavy feet, and even heavier hearts.

**-x-X-x-**

Their resting quarters were unfamiliar rooms, suggesting Miss Maiden still had her illusion intact. The doll, to their uneasiness, supplied them with towels before they entered the room. She informed that inside were two beds and a door that led into an identical room. In the south wall of the second room loomed a long, red door that would not open until the next challenge. It would come after their respite, so the doll claimed.

She never entered the room and she waved once they were all in. The door creaked shut behind them and clicked.

"It seems we have no choice," Conrad said, peeling out of his jacket. He approached a dresser between the beds and cautiously tugged open the drawers. "There's clothes in here."

"Weapons too," Lord Varick called from the adjoining room, "A sword for each of us."

Wolfram took in what they said as he searched the cabinets mounted to one wall. "Food," he exclaimed, leaning close to confirm what curled off the full plates was steam. He shut the cabinet and opened it again, a new meal having replaced the old one.

"Whoa." Yuri watched and then shut the cabinet himself to test its magic. Another meal waited for him when he reopened it. "Wow, it changes everytime!"

"She must want us in top shape for what's to come." Conrad came behind them to see.

Wolfram snorted and pried away from the group and rolled off his stubborn clothing. "More like she's taunting us."

Silence answered him and then he practically felt Yuri's sad look. "Wolfram…"

Wolfram broke in with a mean look to Lord Varick. "This isn't a free show. I'm promised to Yuri. It's unbecoming to have others watch me undress when there's clearly another room for you to be in."

Lord Varick glanced at Conrad after nodding his understanding. He slipped into the room and his footsteps were echoed by Conrad, who, after lingering his eyes on Wolfram for a moment, also went to the room.

"Sleep, you two. I'll have the first shift," Conrad said before he shut the door to allow them privacy, and partly to avoid hearing a protest to his comment. The moment the door shut, his eyes shut and he willed his hand to release the knob. "What's going on?" he asked.

The man-sized doll sat on the ground, leaning against the wall like he wasn't the wet dog he looked to be. His eyes were shut but his mouth moved. "Miss Maiden is always watching us," he stopped a moment, "Someone else sometimes watches too."

"Someone else?" Conrad faced him, forgetting the chill on his skin.

"Someone worse."

"How much worse?"

Lord Varick opened his eyes but didn't seem to be staring at anything. "I'm in trouble."

On the other side of the door, Yuri turned away as Wolfram undressed.

"Why did you look away?" Wolfram's nose was wrinkling and his lips were caving down.

Yuri stumbled over his thoughts. "I didn't…After what happened, I j-Wolfram!" He inhaled sharply, taking in Wolfram's scent as the blonde's fingers held his wet collar.

"Don't do that." Wolfram forced Yuri to meet his eyes. "I'm your fiancé. Don't look at me like broken goods."

"I didn't say that!"

"You were thinking it!" Wolfram released Yuri but stomped closer, invading his space.

Yuri didn't give him the satisfaction of stepping back. "Don't assume you know what I think! I…"

"What?"

"What am I supposed to do, Wolfram?" Yuri huffed back in his face as he formulated some sort of articulate sentence. "I know it wasn't our fault what happened back there but I…"

Wolfram strained to hear what was said. "You wimp, speak up," he growled.

"I never felt so weak," Yuri whispered, nose tipped down.

What irritation had crossed over Wolfram's face melted off.

"I had changed," Yuri continued, dropping onto the edge of one bed, "And yet still, I felt so drained. I don't even remember some bits when I was in that form. I couldn't save the girl. I couldn't save you. That's what I remember."

Wolfram listened and breathed in as deeply as he could. Wrapped in just the towel, he plopped down beside Yuri. He offered a bit of himself. "Miss Maiden once told me early on that there were others like her, most who stayed silent if they had an owner. Some spoke, especially to children. She said that all the dolls all knew each other though."

Yuri glanced at him. "She did?"

"Yes. She told me about some of them. They all had a background, stories to tell. She never went into a lot of details but, now that all this has happened, it makes me think they had lives. Real lives," Wolfram brought his eyes to find Yuri's, "Sad ones."

"Wolfram," Yuri murmured. He didn't flinch when Wolfram leaned forward and rested his forehead against his.

"Don't say you're weak." Wolfram kept the rest to himself, tempted to add that it was Yuri who had shown him a higher meaning of strength. It was a meaning that kept Wolfram standing in this situation, kept him from bursting into a furious tantrum.

And he was greeted in kind with Yuri resting his hand on his back, his fingers cold but the touch still warming Wolfram up. "Thanks, Wolfram," he said in a quieter tone.

Wolfram rolled his eyes though they had closed. A small, curious part of him—the part that nipped at his conscious on a daily basis—wanted him to bring the conversation to fruition about their engagement. But Wolfram found Yuri's forehead oddly comfortable, his scent just as appealing as it had always been, no matter how morbid the circumstances.

At last, Wolfram opened his eyes slowly, after realizing he had been leaning against his fiancé for what felt a while. Yuri made a cute sound, a kind of chuckle through his nose.

"Funny?"

"I just thought it was funny that we fight and then could go be having ice cream the next minute."

Wolfram tilted his head. "Ice cream?"

Yuri laughed softly and leaned back on his hands with a shake of his head. "I'm glad you're here, Wolfram, however crazy the ride has been."

Unsure where the comment stemmed from, Wolfram failed to keep the blush piling into his cheeks. "Hmph," he turned his head away and knew he was glad Yuri was with him too, despite knowing it would be better if he was alone in the endeavor. A big part of him wasn't sure what he'd do without him during this.

Wolfram couldn't stop himself from asking. "What if she takes me away?"

"What?"

Wolfram dared to meet his eyes again, scared those dark eyes would betray him. "Some fiancé you are. You wouldn't even fight to keep me from her clutches?" he spoke in his jesting tone but his heart swelled, awaiting Yuri's reaction.

"Of course I'd fight," Yuri objected, sitting upright again, "Not just because I'm your fiancé, Wolfram. You're a precious person to me, and Conrad cares about you, and Gwendel, and I'm pretty sure Gunter would miss you, and of course I can't raise Greta alone."

The double black chuckled at the memories of their family endeavors. But Wolfram was fixated on how Yuri had phrased his hasty response. "You recognized that you're my fiancé," he said.

Yuri blinked twice. He looked up as if he was hitting the replay button in his head. "I…did. Well, I-It's that…I meant, it doesn't matter, it just matters that-"

Wolfram huffed and tuned out the rambling. "Like I said, some fiancé you are."

"Wolfram."

The tone pulled Wolfram's attention directly back to Yuri. His face had grown firm. "Wolfram," he said again, "I…don't know what it is about us. I can't answer that all that well. I just know…"

Wolfram waited, crossed his arms, despite how less-than-intimidating he really looked.

"I know you're special and…"

"And?"

Yuri threw his hands up into the air and got up. Surprised by the sudden gesture, Wolfram could only watch in some amusement at how his fiancé undressed quickly, dried himself even faster, and yanked on a tunic and dark breeches. Then, he went to the other bed and pulled back the blanket.

Wolfram deflated at the silence and perked up again when Yuri looked at him.

"Are you getting to bed?" Yuri waved his hand to the bed he was getting into.

"Oh." Wolfram didn't notice how unintelligent that sounded. His mechanics kicked in and he finished drying off, did the best he could with his hair, and also pulled on a similar outfit before he was crawling over Yuri to reach the other side of the bed.

He settled in, his back against the wall to allow Yuri enough room himself.

His King was smiling again as he dragged the blankets over them. It was meek, nervous even, but Wolfram drowned in it all over again. With as much of a smug look as he could muster, Wolfram acted like any fiancé would—and snuggled right up to Yuri, an arm draping around his waist. Yuri really had grown in so many ways since he'd arrive.

However, this same idiotic King of his was still unaware of his power over Wolfram, unaware that the mere sound of his voice could have Wolfram's face flushed, stomach jumping, and knees aching.

All that came out though, despite the turmoil in Wolfram's head, was a sigh of, "Yuri."

"W-Wolfram…? H-Hey," Yuri shifted, face growing hot but the tone in the blonde's voice softened his resistance. Swallowing a lump of emotions, he extended his arms and rested them around Wolfram's arms. Assurance surged through him, almost reminding him of being a child who rushed to his mother or father when he got scared. There was familiar warmth to promise him it would go away in holding Wolfram. Maybe being so detached from reality had increased his reliance on the blonde that much more.

Whatever it was, Yuri clung to it and buried his face in Wolfram's hair. "You know, I don't really know what to say around you sometimes."

"There's nothing to say," Wolfram muttered against him, though he wished Yuri would say a lot of things, "We face our next challenge, plan to take Miss Maiden down. For good."

"I'm sorry."

At that, Wolfram pulled back and propped himself up on an elbow. "What?"

Yuri frowned at him. "I wasn't here when it happened but," a pause, "I'm sorry no one believed you about her."

After what may have been hours for all they knew, Wolfram sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes. "You're too soft."

"What?" Yuri grumbled and also pushed himself up. "What ki-"

Wolfram held up his hand and shoved Yuri's face into the pillow. "Idiot. If you stay up anymore, I think your eyes will fall out. Go to sleep," he said. A small part of him tucked away Yuri's kindness into a niche in his heart. He didn't want to discuss the topic though.

"Oof. Wolfram, but-" Yuri shut up fast at the mean look on Wolfram's face, rimmed with dark circles. "Hmph." Though he didn't protest, Yuri also reached up and shoved Wolfram into a pillow. He was shot half a nasty look until it glazed over quickly. Exhaustion overcame everything else and both boys prepared to drift off, knees touching in assurance that neither of them would vanish during the break. Wolfram shifted under the blanket, his hand finding Yuri's.

At another time, Wolfram would have felt just a bit shocked at how Yuri's palm welcomed him and the way the double black's fingers slowly curled over his own.

_I love you, Yuri._

Whether Miss Maiden still toyed with him or if it was the fatigue, Wolfram thought he felt Yuri's lips on his head just as sleep overcame him.

That night, nightmares still played behind their eyelids.

**-x-X-x**

Their next clue came in the bloody footprints leading from the red door. Fed, healed, equipped, and relatively rested with what sleep they could gather, the four had trailed after the footprints. They led them to a long recess of empty hallway, void of doors or corners from the looks of it.

Yuri remembered his chest fluttering when he saw Wolfram already up but the blonde didn't mention anything of their talk last night. Silence weighed on them, their attention focused back on the situation at hand. Still, Yuri caught himself looking at his own hand more than once, the one that had held Wolfram's throughout the night.

Save for a few words of caution, neither Conrad nor Lord Varick said much. Conrad had plenty to say and for the time being, he pocketed everything for a later time. Until then, they filtered out and into the deep hallway and clung to the silence, waiting for the first sound that didn't come from them.

It came when they reached an intersection and foreign footsteps had them stopping. Two forms shuffled forward and Yuri was the first to break into a smile.

"Murata! Gwendel!"

"Ah, Shibuya, you're all alright." Murata sighed softly, eyes smiling at their reunion. A pregnant pause fell on them and they shared a mutual expression. Both groups had had their share of challenges. "You look like you got some rest," The Great Sage said.

"Miss Maiden seems to want us in good condition," Conrad said, meeting his brother's gaze with a narrowed one. In one fluid move, he drew his sword at the same time that Gwendel did, their blades prepared to face off.

"Conrad!" Yuri grabbed his godfather's elbow. "What are you doing?"

Conrad nudged his King back, his eyes never leaving Gwendel's. "Do you believe them to be genuine, Your Highness?" In truth, he found himself reluctant to call them dolls but he couldn't risk it. His gut told him they were authentic but given that this was not their territory, they very well could be made up of insects for all he knew.

"What?" Yuri looked back at the two, reminded again of the scene in the garden with the impersonators. "Murata?"

The Great Sage laughed nervously and drew up both hands. "I see you've had your share of imposters as well. We are the real deal though. How could anyone replicate my charm, Shibuya?"

Gwendel already had the boy behind him though, eyes taking each of them in with a keen, mean eye.

"Relax." Lord Varick pushed down Conrad's blade and kept walking down the hallway. "They're not dolls."

"How do you know?" Wolfram asked Varick but continued looking at Gwendel, feeling those familiar, strong past by him. He couldn't believe a doll could replicate them so well, especially the feral way they looked at Lord Varick.

Conrad noted it as well. If Lord Varick vouched for them, it validated his gut feeling. That didn't mean he dismissed the wrinkles plaguing Gwendel's otherwise taut face. The man was repressing something and wasn't speaking of it—or maybe he couldn't.

"We need to keep moving. I said they're not imposters so start walking." Lord Varick pressed forward without their approval.

Wolfram kept watching Gwendel's face and he had to turn away when the intensity grew too severe. He sheathed his weapon and tugged Yuri's elbow so that the King was in the middle of their flock. Something dropped into his stomach when he understood his inability to tend to Gwendel or Murata's well being.

They had to keep moving.

Wolfram felt that if they stopped for too long, something trailing behind them would catch up. What it was, he couldn't pinpoint but he had the suspicion the others felt it too.

Both brothers sheathed their weapons and shared a nod as they brought up the rear of the group. Conrad smiled faintly. "We freed mother," he offered.

"That's good. We freed someone too," Murata said back to him.

"Who?" Yuri asked.

"Gunter," Gwendel confirmed, "He seemed unconscious the whole time though."

"I suppose that's good. I doubt he would have taken well to the sight of what you had to do," Conrad said, analyzing Gwendel's body language. The nagging feeling wouldn't go away.

"What did you have to do?" Yuri asked. He didn't want to glance down at the floor and see the blood anymore.

"It's not important," Gwendel stated. His face stayed stoic, eyes watching Varick lead the way.

Murata looked at Yuri and said with a knowing albeit soft touch to his words, "Do you want to share what you had to do?"

Wolfram winced beside Yuri, hoping it went unnoticed. Training helped him force down the memories. Since they had left, none of them had spoken of it, or much of anything else. It had felt inappropriate to speak in the stretch of hallway. It felt haunted, as if waiting to spook them. They hadn't bothered to talk for fear they would miss a sound.

When Wolfram thought Yuri might answer, Varick said, "We're here."

The blood that Yuri had been avoiding met his eyes. A door stood before them, as tall as a pine tree and wide enough for three sets of shoulders to pass through. Blood jumped off the ground and now smeared the door like a finger-painting exercise gone wrong. The handle was untouched by the dark color.

"I'm not sure how many more we'll have to put up with," Murata murmured, waiting to see if the door would bite. If a door could leer and bully someone, this one was doing it.

Lord Varick glanced back at them, looked back to the door, and opened it for them. The deep groan that came from the door sliding open was appropriate for its size. It seemed the sound echoed forever as they came to an enormous chamber. It resembled the ball room of their castle.

Wolfram screened the area, squinting at the lack of light until the candles lining the walls and chandeliers burst to life.

The sight made him cringe, unsure of what to make of the spectacle. "What is this…?"

He stepped forward with his brothers and took in what must have been thirty or so people posed along the floor. Their toes and hands pointed in ways that looked as if though they were frozen in mid dance. Clothing appropriate for a ball draped over their bodies but most were shredded, their rags dangling off their limbs like broken spider webs.

"Are they stone?" Gwendel stepped closer, cautious in his movements. His face went slack and he stepped back in horror when he saw the painted face of a familiar servant girl. Her lips were forced into a smile and her eyes were wide open. He could see her pulse flutter against her neck and limbs quiver. She did nothing to acknowledge him.

By Conrad's hiss, Gwendel knew the man he had figured it out as well. It wasn't long before Wolfram gasped and Yuri cried out.

"They're alive! Everyone, we're here to help!" Yuri reached to touch one but Wolfram yanked him back.

"Don't! We don't know what's happened to them," Wolfram said, staring at the captive servants.

Murata approached and rested a hand on Yuri's arm. "Do you hear that?"

The group held their breaths. A round of escalating heartbeats went between them and then they heard it, the fleeting pitch in a giggle.

"Welcome," a doll's voice said. Her voice bounced along the walls playfully.

"Welcome," another said, rushing under a servant's poised legs in a ghostly blur that made the group wonder if she had scuttled by their to begin with.

"Welcome!" feet scurried behind them but when they turned, nothing.

Wolfram clenched his jaw and he felt pressure rising from furrowing his eyebrows so hard. "There's more than one this time?" His eyes scanned the area. The more they whipped their heads around, the more dolls they felt brush by, like they rode on a passing breeze.

"Look there." Murata shot his arm out and the others followed its line of direction.

Beyond the forest of servants, with enough searching, they made out a clearing on the opposite side. A massive door waited for them, shrouded by what at first looked like reliefs. Squinting harder, Wolfram realized that it wasn't an adorned wall but indeed a door under six gigantic, gold hands. Their fingers were in mid-curl, as if prepared to claw the door apart. One finger alone was the size of Wolfram.

"We have to make it across," Gwendel said, his voice less convincing than usual.

Yuri groaned at the prospect and sucked in his breath when a giggle sounded too close to him. He bumped into Wolfram and the blonde mimicked his surprised sound. "Wimp," Wolfram hissed, but he held onto Yuri's arm in a fierce grasp.

"Are we going to be properly greeted or not?" Conrad's voice boomed through the room, stilling the vaporous sounds. The commanding tone, at first, made Wolfram easy. He wondered if it had somehow upset the dolls.

Then, the teeth-grinding sound of glass on hard-wood sent them all into a defensive posture. Six dolls peered out from around the frozen servants and breached the first line of limbs so that they were in full view for the group to see.

Wolfram curled his hand around the hilt of his weapon when he saw their bare, porcelain feet smudged with red; they left no footprints. They ranged from cropped hair to long, heavy curls that looked ready to swallow their small bodies. Unlike the past dolls they had met, these dolls wore bruised dresses, their hairs matted and knotted. Cracked hands and scratched faces told stories of neglect and Wolfram found these tattered dolls more haunting than the others. Wolfram and the others tried not to imagine what their stories were.

"One for each of us," Murata whispered nearby.

At last, Lord Varick spoke as he took the head of the group. "Let us through. We've killed all your friends thus far. We'll do the same to you."

A doll with cracks around her eyes tilted her head to one side, hard. Wolfram's eye twitched at the snap it made when she did and he snarled. "We are getting across one way or another!"

Yet before he could move forward, the ethereal murmur swept over their heads.

"_Patience, my Prince…"_

Wolfram grimaced and balled his hands into tighter fists, one still curled harshly around the hilt of his blade.

"_The dolls before you took me a while to unearth. Broken, unwanted, ready to cut some skin as retribution…"_

The six dolls broke into fits of giggling. Their limbs cracked and squeaked when they jerked them around, leaving a terrible echo in their wake.

"_One by one, you will waltz through. If you touch any of your loyal servants, they will set their sights on your death. You'll find that incapacitating them without killing them will be a painful experience…"_

Yuri broke in, calling up to the ceilings. "Miss Maiden, please! This is all unnecessary! You don't have to do thi-Ah!"

"Yuri!" Wolfram and Conrad caught the double black before he collided into the wall. The gust of angry wind had chucked Yuri back, its fingers tangling in all their hair as it surged around them. It died as quickly as it had been called out.

"_It is very necessary, Your Highness. Once you reach the end, you will be that much closer to me…"_

Her voice blew past them and a waltz chimed to life. The music filtered through from an unknown source but Wolfram and the others did little to notice that. They fixated stares on how the dolls tucked back into the crowd. A simultaneous intake of air startled Wolfram and his heart dropped when he recognized it was the servants that had made the noise.

Their bodies shifted and, involuntarily, they moved to the rhythm of the song.

Wolfram's face got stuck in another wince at the display. Their bodies moved in unison, the men leading the unnatural dance. It wasn't until a few steps into the dance did Wolfram see why the dance looked so unusual, their feet always gliding upon the floor in a manner that defied gravity. Above the dancers' heads, clinging to their limbs, were thin strings.

"This is madness." Gwendel snorted. Wolfram didn't have to look at him to know he was grinding his teeth.

"I'm going first," Varick said, glancing back at them.

Yuri stared at him. "But-"

"Lord Varick," Murata said, stepping up to the man, "Wait-"

"I'm going." Lord Varick stepped closer to the swaying pack of dancers.

Murata narrowed his eyes.

Any protests boiled under the surfaces of tightly pressed lips, save for Wolfram and Yuri. "You can't mess this up," the blonde snapped at him.

"No matter what, you can't hurt any of them. They have nothing to do with this." Yuri's eyes pleaded with the man and though Varick nodded to him, Yuri didn't feel any sense of relief.

Lord Varick proved to be the best candidate to cross first. His spine-crooking ways and light feet set his success rate higher than the others. His clothing had changed back in the break room, his cape luckily no longer an addition to his attire, and his hair was pulled up high to avoid any snaring fingers.

Wolfram felt a smile tickle his lips—it had been so long since he felt it—when their guide reached the other side. "He made it!"

Lord Varick waved at them to assure his safety and he faced the covered door. They could only make out his movements slightly, broken up by the dance sweeping to and fro. Eventually, he turned back to them and waved again, his head shaking.

"Seems we all need to get to the other side then." Conrad already realigned the sheath slung at his hips; the less cumbersome he was, the better.

"Conrart," Wolfram whispered, his fingers feeling cold at the idea of Conrad going next.

Murata glanced at Gwendel and the man gave him a grim look.

"No." Gwendel hissed, careful that no one would hear. "No discussion."

Conrad looked at his youngest brother but Wolfram flushed and looked away, memories of the playhouse picking at his brain. Conrad's posture relaxed and he rested a hand on the blonde's shoulder, noting how it almost trembled beneath his touch. "Wolfram, I'm going to cross next. I entrust His Highness to you. There may be a way for us to all get through without problems."

Wolfram listened to the words but he heard something else entirely. The touch burned his skin and he repressed the urge to jerk away from him. Conrad was right though. They had to get Yuri through this safely but somehow Wolfram felt that Conrad wasn't just implying Yuri's safety.

"Conrart," Wolfram said again and then jerked his head away, "Don't mess up and embarrass your demon heritage, however little of it you have."

Smiling, Conrad nodded and looked at Yuri. "Trust me."

Yuri could only crack a half smile. "See you on the other side," he said, feeling his tongue so thick in his mouth.

Conrad gave a final nod to Gwendel and Murata before he approached the edge. The music had picked up but the movements hadn't altered much. He had watched Varick exceptionally close and though he couldn't contort his body, he put his turned up his willpower. Eyes flicking to the side, Conrad counted their steps before he turned to the side and slipped in between a man and woman.

The moment Conrad became part of the dance, Wolfram forgot to breathe regularly. His chest clamped up and his face stayed glued to the scene though part of him wanted nothing more than to bury his face in his hands until it was over. But he watched, his spine tingling whenever he thought Conrad would slip up. His half-brother was trained though, in combat and in the ballroom, however much Wolfram had denied to at first. In another setting, Wolfram could have admired how well of a dancer Conrad really was, ample on his toes and aware of every part of his body.

"He's going to make it," Yuri gasped, face brimming with glee, "He's almost there."

Steps away from Lord Varick, Conrad's face hardened when he heard a giggle among the shuffling of dancers. He stayed focused, not daring to break up his movements to see if a doll was around and risk touching one of the servants. He hadn't touched any thus far but he felt filthy, as if their forced smiles and wide eyes clung to him like leeches. In his gut, he knew they saw him and were shrieking in their heads for someone to save them.

And that's when he slipped up. Another giggle resounded. Conrad stepped back as a female servant twirled in front of him. She would dance to the side, leaving a gap for him to squeeze through before the next twirling woman came. But when his right leg stepped back to prepare for just that, he felt the vicious tear into his calf.

"Conrart!" Wolfram rushed as close as he could, seeing Conrad cry out and stumble to avoid bumping into a dancer. His heart screamed against his ears as he could only watch. Beside him, Yuri called to his godfather.

"Stay there!" Conrad didn't waver in his demand. His adrenaline pulsed against his eardrums as he improvised, trying to remember where he should step. A doll rushed by his other leg and he felt cold, sharp fingertips drag along his back. He couldn't help but shout and there, he saw an opening. He leapt, used his hands to brace his body for a roll, and he was out of the dance, crashing by Lord Varick's feet.

Lord Varick dropped by his side, eyes rushing back to the dancers. None of them made to attack.

"Conrart!"

Conrad winced and stood up with Lord Varick's aid He waved at the group. "I'm fine!"

"What happened?" Gwendel's voice cut through the music easily.

"Be careful," Conrad shouted back, "The dolls attacked me."

Yuri paled. "What?"

"Of course," Wolfram spat, glaring at the crowd. He couldn't detect any of the dolls hidden among them. Conrad had narrowly failed. All the implications from that made the situation seem that much bleaker.

Yuri meanwhile hadn't dropped his voice. "Conrad, are you alright?" he asked and rushed forward, as close as he could get. Before anyone could order him to keep a safer distance back, the music screeched to a stop and the servants halted in mid-step.

The plummet into silence shut everyone else up. Wolfram was by Yuri in an instant, gripping his arm. Strings plucked somewhere in the distance as the servants whirled around to face them, their wide eyes directly on Yuri.

"Your Highness, step back," Gwendel said, reaching out to snatch the double black's shirt.

In a collective move, the sea of servants took an obedient stance and split in two, parting so that they cleared a path toward the door. Head down and either bowing or curtseying, their demented voices rang out. "Your Highness, Our Demon King."

A muscle in Yuri's face twitched. "What the…"

They could see Lord Varick and Conrad clearly from their spot. The two men looked hesitant to move but Conrad tried it anyway, taking a step closer to the path.

"Your Highness, Our _Demon King,_" the crowd sang again, their voices dropping octaves.

"Don't, Lord Weller." Murata shook his head at Conrad then focused his attention on Yuri, "Shibuya."

Yuri swallowed but nodded, his eyes dropping what fear he initially had. His hand curled around Wolfram's stubborn ones. "Wolf…"

The blonde heard the way the servants had spoken when Conrad had stepped closer. Even so, he scowled, "You're going to let him walk through?"

"Wolfram." Gwendel's voice didn't allow for argument.

Again, the servants called for their Demon King.

Yuri's fingers rubbed over Wolfram's. "Shouldn't keep them waiting, huh?" Yuri put on a small chuckle.

Wolfram saw the genuine hints of a smile under it. "Can't wait to find a pretty face to cheat on me with, huh?" He knew it came out weak though.

His fiancé's face didn't suggest he thought the same though. His smile strengthened at Wolfram's words and he squeezed the hand around his arm once more before it released him. With a deep inhale and shoulders squared back, Yuri started walking forward.

Eyes followed him, not just that of his comrades but of his servants. Their backs bowed still, their bodies faced him, hungrily eyeing his every step down the path.

"Our Demon King becomes the whore," their chant started, voices escalating so high and distorted that it mimicked strangled cats, "The King becomes the whore…"

Yuri's chest almost erupted at the change but he resisted running. He kept walking, though he swallowed a few hard lumps down his throat and felt sweat break out on his palms and forehead. He couldn't stop glancing at his servants, feeling his legs grow weak at the sight of what had been done to them.

Without incident, Yuri crossed the pathway and into the arms of his godfather. "Conrad! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." Conrad gripped Yuri's shoulders and studied the servants. Their song had stopped and as if Yuri had never crossed their path, they melted back into a dance as the music hurried back to life.

_Yuri._ Wolfram exhaled, feeling less ill knowing that Yuri had made it across.

"Lord von Bielefeld."

Wolfram turned his head, finding the Great Sage fixing an enigmatic look on him. "What is it?"

"Do you recall what Miss Maiden said about this challenge?" Murata waited and supplied the rest when Wolfram narrowed his eyes at him. "If we bump into any servants, they'll attack that person until they're dead."

"Supposedly we'd have to kill them if we wanted them to stop," Gwendel added, looking at the double black. His arms were crossed in a manner that told Wolfram he was contemplating. Hard.

Murata sighed at the image of a slaughtering. "Yes, that's what I suspect as well. However, I think we should approach it like Miss Maiden would. However…"

Wolfram narrowed one eye at him. "What do you mean?"

"Remember what she said? We'd find it painful to stop them. Don't you remember what she told you at the very start of all of this?" Murata leaned closer, prompting Wolfram to think hard.

The blonde eased back, irritated why the boy couldn't just say it. When he was about to demand just that, an epiphany had him drop his jaw. "Wait, Miss Maiden said I couldn't die."

Murata nodded, urging more.

Wolfram glared at him, unsure if his epiphany was as grand as he had thought. "But everything we've gone through, there were times I thought I would."

"But you didn't," Murata reminded, offering his hand until it touched the blonde's arm, "Lord von Bielefeld, Miss Maiden's desires for one thing only."

"Me." Wolfram knew that much. His eyes lowered to the ground, not registering the touch by now. "She wants me and does all this? It makes me hate her more!"

Why was The Great Sage bringing about all this now? Wolfram had a sick wondering if the boy was waiting for a time when the others weren't around. But now, of all times?

Gwendel's deep exhale startled Wolfram and he flicked his eyes up to his brother. The man's eyes were observing the dance, brimming with a heartrending truth. Wolfram saw the expression and his heart swelled up into his throat.

"Brother?" Wolfram looked between the two, the dance feeling farther and farther away. His brother's behavior had bothered him from their reunion but he had chalked it up to a bad experience with what he and The Great Sage had to go through. Now, Wolfram wasn't so sure.

"Miss Maiden wants you, no matter what," Murata went on, the weight of his words heavier than ever. Wolfram stared at him, feeling dumb. It was like they were hoping he'd figure out a cryptic message through their words.

"This is nonsense." Gwendel's deep growl preceded him approaching Wolfram. "I'm not staying quiet anymore! I won't allow Wolfra-"

"Lord von Voltaire, don't!" Murata spun on his heels and extended his arms to keep the soldier at bay. "You know what will happen if you speak. You can't risk that!"

"Wolfram is not a tool! I won't stay silent anymore, knowing what waits for him!" Gwendel loomed over Murata and searched Wolfram's eyes. "Wolfram, the-"

Snap.

A chord broke somewhere above them. Tiny hands poured out of the ceiling, long arms making a straight shot for Gwendel. Wolfram saw them first, yelling in dread at the sight. He hurried forward, grabbing Murata's arm and yanking him to safety before he went to Gwendel's aid as they descended on him like hungry beasts.

Gwendel had seen them too late, sidestepped, and failed to dodge. They crashed on him, grabbing his clothes, his hair, and skin, digging their nails into him as they claimed him. Thrashing and yelling, Gwendel reached for his weapon. Porcelain bit harder into him, into his shoulder, until he couldn't move his arm anymore. His knees buckled and he collapsed on all fours, all his teeth gritting and mental cursing winning him nothing

"Brother!" Wolfram yanked out his sword and aimed, only to be propelled back by a swarm of hands that temporarily unlatched from Gwendel. He collided into Murata and he heard Yuri shouting something from the other side. Wolfram shook off his dizziness and got up again, charging at Gwendel.

The hands yanked Gwendel up, avoiding Wolfram's sword by inches. They hauled the struggling man up and up until the ceiling swallowed him whole.

Wolfram ogled up at the spot he had seen Gwendel vanish, emotions stripping off him like dead skin. His mind only repeated his brother's name like a mantra and his sword-wielding-hand felt incredibly heavy. The weapon slipped out of his grip.

"GWENDAL!" His brother's name, though screamed from the pit of his stomach, didn't do anything to deter the dance or the music. He could hear the frantic sounds from the other side of the room but Wolfram kept it at bay as he ran back to The Great Sage.

"Where is he?" He snatched the boy by the collar. Why he didn't shake his brains out, Wolfram wasn't sure, but he attributed it to a repressed reminder that this was The Great Sage he was grabbing so crudely.

Murata's look was sympathetic and he whined when Wolfram brought him closer. "Lord von-"

"TELL ME!"

"If I tell you, Shibuya will get hurt." Murat's voice was firm as much as his features.

Wolfram trembled, partly in a frenzy that he found the boy's words to be true. "Why did they take Gwendel?"

"Lord von Bielefeld," Murata brought up one hand and rested it on Wolfram's hand. The blonde unconsciously released him a bit. "Our last challenge revealed a lot to Lord von Voltaire. Part of it was to keep quiet. If we said anything…"

"Where is my brother?"

Murata shut his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know."

Wolfram's furious breathing came out as snorts. "Do you know about it too? About what this is all really about?"

Murata's eyes opened and exposed a guilty look.

"What's going to happen?"

"Lord von Bielefeld," Murata sharpened his tongue again, "Miss Maiden wants you. There is more at hand, that much you can guess. She will not let you die during this game of hers though, for however long she lets it go." By his face, Wolfram knew he wouldn't, or couldn't, say more.

Struggling was an understatement for what Wolfram did. He had to close his eyes to establish some level of control. The music barely drowned out the other side of the room but Wolfram hoped Conrad knew to calm Yuri for the time being. Music, shouting, rage, and something else bubbled in his head. His emotions returned to him like a typhoon, heating up Wolfram's temperature. If his fire could take on a life of its own, it would have burst out of him and engulfed the entire room.

_Don't. _Wolfram heard his own growling, felt his eyes ready to rupture.

Gradually, Wolfram opened his eyes and saw the drifting feet of the servants dancing. They were getting tired no doubt. It wasn't fair they had to keep waiting. Like a flame blown out, Wolfram felt his rage and sorrow coil deep in his chest.

_We will make it through. We have to._

He glanced at Murata and he retrieved his sword again. "Miss Maiden doesn't want me dead," he repeated and waited, as if for assurance.

Murata pressed his lips together and he reluctantly nodded once. "You understand then."

Wolfram did. As he approached the dance, he saw Yuri's horrified expression flashing between the gaps of servants. Unable to stand the look, Wolfram adjusted his vision away from it and stared at the blur of limbs spinning back and forth. He could easily bump into a servant, let them attack him. They wouldn't kill him, right? Miss Maiden said she'd spare him and he could have gone first, let them attack him until she had them stop. How unfair would that be to the servants though, forced to beat their Demon King's fiancé to near death?

The flash of his sword brought Wolfram's attention down. What would happen if he tried to mortally wound himself? Would she stop him? He angled the blade up, studied it. In his reflection, he saw eyes that weren't all his. They were lighter, almost glazed. Were the effects on his mind manifesting in his body already? How long had it been there?

_My Prince…_

Wolfram shut his eyes tightly and gasped. No, he scolded himself. He knew his mind was warped and suppressed a lot of images and emotions that would explode should he not deal with them soon. But what choice did they have? They had to escape soon and that meant pressing on. So why did it feel that all the training Wolfram had had as a soldier amounted to nothing?

Pressing a hand to his forehead, Wolfram found his stubbornness again, almost astounded that he had lost it. He thought of Yuri, who had to be protected at all costs. He thought of Gwendel—he'd find his brother and punish anyone who dared to harm him.

Right. Wolfram lowered his hand, realizing how loud the music was now. He couldn't hear anything else, barely registered his heart beating. And when he did look up, he felt an icy grip on his wrist and saw a servant's face millimeters from his own.

"Ah…!"

Wolfram cried out at the sight, all his psychological dilemmas flinging out. He tried to jerk free but the grip was fierce in the woman's hold. Her smile, now cracked and bleeding from the corners, brought Wolfram memories of being a child frightened by wide-smiling strangers. But this time he didn't have his mother to rush to for protection.

He saw the dance had stop. The servants reached out toward him, their fingers all so cold as they rested on him and started pulling. "S-Stop! Get off me!"

Ignoring him, the servants kept tugging, forcing Wolfram into their herd and he had the sudden remembrance of the dolls. He frantically looked around but only met the worn, forced smiles of their loyal subjects. They maneuvered him so expertly Wolfram never felt a bump in his steps, nor could he pull free his weapon as a precaution. He waited, held his breath again, expecting their nails to claw into his skin, aim for his organs and all but rip him to shreds.

But they didn't. He saw Yuri's face in the clearing as they nudged him over. The double black didn't waste a moment; Wolfram felt familiar arms crushing him, pulling him away from the pack.

"Y-Yuri…"

Yuri held on tighter, gasping when he felt his own breath had been held. "What the heck went on over there. Wolfram! Are you-"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Wolfram said, pushing away to take in Yuri's body. He was really there. Wolfram looked back fast, finding the flock already parting and bowing as they had done for Yuri—now for Murata, who caught on quick and didn't hesitate to cross the path. He shared a look with Wolfram that told the warrior he was just as surprised by the turn of events. Wolfram didn't want to think what he would have done had the affair gone differently. Whatever The Great Sage had concocted in his mind had to wait for now.

At least this time, the servants didn't speak.

When Murata had crossed, their backs straightened and their chins tilted down. The same hands that had taken Gwendel from up above now blossomed from the ground like weeds, wrapping around the legs of the servants. Gradually, they pulled them down into the muck that they came from.

No one spoke as they vanished, less so when they saw five of the dolls remaining.

"Congratulations," one doll with a broken ribbon in her hair said, "You have crossed and may now face us in the next room."

Wolfram panicked at the missing doll. "Where's Gwendell?"

"Mm, was that the one I bit?" another doll asked. They couldn't ignore the smear across her pink lips.

"No, no, he means the big one with hair we wanted to braid," a doll at the end said. She giggled and tugged on her own short hair. The rest joined in the giggling acknowledgment.

"Where is he?" Wolfram saw them crank their heads to give him disapproving looks.

The blood smeared doll pointed up. "Miss Maiden took him for breaking the rules. But I'm not sure Master will be pleased…"

"Yes, you passed through nicely because of the big brute." The dolls shared another round of laughing.

Wolfram felt the world tilt. "Gwendel…?"

"Master, wait. Who is your Master?" It was Conrad speaking now, his own voice sounded a little raw. At the least, his wounds had been wrapped with spare shreds of Lord Varick and his own clothing but he paid no mind to them.

The ribbon-wearing doll pointed up with two little hands. "Master is the Puppeteer. He'll fix us, make us better once we win against you. He won't fix you though, Varick!"

Lord Varick barely acknowledged the girls. "What do you mean about Lord von Voltaire?"

A deep rumble punctuated his statement. The group turned, finding the fingers lifting off the door, waking from a long slumber. Like spiders, they crept away to unveil the door. It opened of its own accord before anyone had the courage to approach it, silent as it did so.

Wolfram's heart sank.

He tried to think about the Master the dolls spoke of, forced himself to remember priorities. It didn't work well. Emotions always dominated Wolfram's face, whether he was fuming or in the shallow harbors of depressing thoughts. With frustration crinkling the lines around his eyes, Wolfram was the first to enter the through the door.

"Wait, Wolfram," Yuri hurried after him, along with the others.

Wolfram knew he had to find Gwendel. Maybe it was Miss Maiden's spell on the castle but a new thought told him he would be finding him sooner and in bad company. He didn't wait as Yuri asked; he pressed on.

He almost stopped when Yuri's hand brushed against his. A quick look and he found Yuri, despite all his weariness, giving him a flimsy smile for strength. It was enough for Wolfram. He could only bump lightly back into Yuri's hand and accept having him walk by his side.

Nothing else could be said. Words that couldn't be expressed got buried in their respective hearts. They all headed in, with one less member on their team.

**-x-X-x-**

Miss Maiden sat in the center of the room.

Wolfram's hiss had been the first clue something was amiss. They had followed the dolls like they were parents chaperoning a field trip until the blonde had stopped short. There she was, sitting on a lonely stool atop a checkered floor with a pale light spilling over her.

"Miss Maiden." Wolfram felt as if everyone in the room disappeared, save for him and her.

"_My Prince..."_

Her voice still felt like a nail scraping down Wolfram's spine. This time though, her words didn't weigh down over them as it usually did.

Lord Varick came forward and blocked Wolfram from stepping closer. "What are you doing here? Those dolls said-"

Miss Maiden's neck creaked when she looked at the man. "_You can assume why I'm here…"_

"Don't be stupid," Lord Varick said, face scrunching up, "He knows you're up to no good. Do you think he would trust you so easily after all that's happened?"

"_You don't know what you speak of..."_

"I do!" Lord Varick's hands grew stiff and he shut his eyes tightly before he looked back at the group. At a glance, the man looked to be resolving a dispute within himself.

"Lord Varick, what's going on?" The blonde fisted a hand in Lord Varick's arm. "Please. You have to tell us now."

"He can't, not easily anyway," Conrad said, "He says someone else is watching us on and off. I take it to be the Puppeteer himself."

"What?" Yuri gaped. "Does that mean Miss Maiden isn't the one doing all this?"

Lord Varick opened his eyes and words sprung off his lips. "The Puppeteer had me searching for Miss Maiden ever she went missing," he started suddenly. "For a long time, he was nothing more than dirt under the world's heels but he always said he'd reverse the world's working order, with him as its King-"

"_What are you doing?" _

"Listen to me!" Lord Varick's holler had the others step back in caution, "Your Eminence, surely you've heard of people gifted with rare abilities, using ancient magic to perform great tasks."

Murata held a frown but nodded.

"We all have," Conrad said, hand tightening on his hilt now.

"The Puppeteer uses magic then?" Yuri searched the smooth face of Lord Varick for answers, terrified Miss Maiden would disrupt it at any moment.

"You know, you _must_ all know now that these dolls, including we two—we're not dolls," Lord Varick murmured, gesturing toward the group, "We're souls, lost without our bodies, some of us who should be very well dead and silent."

"_What are you saying? Stop speaking…!"_

Lord Varick spun to meet the challenging stare of Miss Maiden. "If you finish me off, you'll have no one to help you," he glanced back at the book, "She only became so strong now because our Master found her. That's why I showed up, to help our Master carry out his plans now that Miss Maiden was found. She could have called for him at any time but it wasn't until recently she did."

Wolfram stared at his doll again but she remained silent, her glass eyes empty as if she wasn't even in there. "What does that mean?" he demanded at Lord Varick, eyes narrowing. "She called all this here? Why now?"

Murata's eyes widened. "Lord Varick, you mustn't say more. Your Master is nearby and he may be hearing us now then!"

Conrad, Yuri, and Wolfram tensed at the same moment and their eyes darted back to the noble for further answers.

"Lord Varick, why are you saying all this now, knowing the consequences?" Conrad asked, drawing out his blade and steadying his pose. He made sure Yuri was behind him.

"I need Miss Maiden's help," he said to the doll now, moving to her, "My powers can't compare. He'll take Wolfram and use him, use all the poor souls as a tool to keep His Highness from taking him down. I can't let that happen. I thought I could go along with it but…"

"What?" Yuri jumped forward and grabbed Lord Varick's arm, turning him around. "Your Master wants Wolfram? But I thou-"

The ground lurched beneath them.

Wolfram instinctively righted himself, heart pounding when it did it again. It rumbled and jerked around, the walls shedding their skin. Wolfram's eyes shot toward Miss Maiden when he heard her shriek. A gold hand tore from the ceiling and snatched her and Lord Varick up in an angry palm. The giant to which the hand surely belonged to was unseen, lost in an eerie fog that oozed out of the ceiling.

"Wolfram!" Conrad tackled Yuri and Murata, using his body to shield them from the debris.

Wolfram obeyed the brunette's order. Pressed against Conrad to shield the double blacks, they rode out the quake. The building screeched and the walls cracked as the ceiling broke apart. Cautiously, Wolfram and Conrad peered up to scan the area when the trembling had begun to ebb. Wolfram was the first to break away from the group, eyes wide and fingers itching for his sword.

It was too late. The mist shrouded the injury to the ceiling and the hand that retreated into it, gone with their answers.

"They got taken just like that," Yuri said in a broken gasp. He staggered to Wolfram and followed his gaze, hoping a clue would rain on them. Around them, they heard the dolls whimpering, near bawling.

They didn't get the chance to speak to them. Whatever spells Miss Maiden had placed on the home shattered and turned ugly; the dolls shrieked and clung to each other, the remnants of their dresses catching black flames. Pieces of their bodies tore off like they were made of scrapped paper. Their screams died off as their splintered selves flickered, drifted toward the ceiling, and then, vanished.

"The girls," Yuri cried out, rushing toward them. The floor ripped out from beneath his feet and soon the entire room uprooted. It was like the gold hand had returned with its partner and now picked at the building like a picky child with its food.

"Shibuya, don't! The whole place is breaking apart." Murata stumbled and crashed into Conrad's waiting arms. "The curse is lifting."

"Yuri!" Wolfram struggled for a hold on a few tiles that broke loose and began to float up. He snatched Yuri's hand before the double black could protest and started hauling him up.

The entire plane tilted and they all slipped, plummeting into the mist that what once above them but now, seemed to be below.

"Not again." Yuri's moan turned into a bellow as they all fell again.

**-x-X-x-**

Wolfram didn't remember falling asleep or even going unconscious. Yet he found his eyes heavy and it hurt to try and open them. His arms tried to respond first, before he had gained full consciousness. Something bit into his skin when he tugged and the pain had him fully alert.

His head was down, providing him with a full view of frills and lace. At the edge of his vision, his arms were up on a chair's arms and bound by silver threads. "What?" his voice came in a croak, drier than it should have been.

The frills and lace were part of a ridiculous garment his sitting body had been victim to. It was something his mother might have made him worn as a child if only it didn't look like a craft project had exploded on it. Wolfram lifted his head, wincing at the strings digging into his neck.

"Wolfram? Wolfram, are you alright?" Conrad's voice came from nearby. "You're awake?"

The rest of his vision came gradually. Wolfram willed his head to move more. He recognized the throne room instantly, saw the red tongue that stretched up to the King's throne. He sat on the edge of the red carpet and with forced patience made out Conrad directly across from him.

"Conrart." Wolfram squinted. The man was strapped to a seat as well. Scratches and blood stuck to his skin. "Conrart…!"

"I'm alright. They're self inflicted." Conrad's face was stuck in a grimace due to how the strings clung to his head. Even so, his eyes were assuring Wolfram of his well being. His clothing had changed as well though. His was less detailed as Wolfram but still looked befitting for a child. High, frilled socks were the least of their concerns though.

Wolfram blinked hard and tried to look around. To Conrad's side, he found The Great Sage stirring—his outfit had been untouched. The boy was just like them, bound to an ornate seat.

"My head. I'm not one for all this being thrown around," Murata muttered, opening one eye at a time.

"Y-Yuri," Wolfram called out. It came out as a weak gasp. He felt the familiar sensation of strings at his throat. His mind raced and he started wiggling around when memories of the playhouse crept out of the corners of his mind.

"Wolfram, calm down." Conrad hissed again when his skin got clipped. "His Highness…"

The man made a gesture with his eyes and Wolfram followed it painfully. His jaw would have fallen off if not for the twine seizing his nerves.

Yuri sat, lax, on the throne. It was as if the strings allowed his unconscious form the benefit of the doubt. His head had rolled to one side and he bore the crest of the King on his shoulder, tresses and sash included.

Crumbled at the throne's side was Gwendel.

Wolfram opened his mouth, his scream too weak to frighten a bird.

The eldest brother was no exception to restraint. His arms hung limply beside his ears, held up by strings that coiled out of the ceiling. He rested on his knees, the rest of his body saved from collapsing by more threads. He bore his uniform yet even Wolfram could see the damage the man had taken.

Tears pressed against Wolfram's eyelids at the way his brother's head hung low, eyes shut. Sickness rolled over Wolfram when he saw thread stitched through his lips. "Brother."

The throne room was deathly still, a faint sigh of air drifting in and out periodically, broken only by the sound of a Gwendel's blood dripping to the carpet.

Wolfram only caught sight of Lord Varick when he forced his eyes away from Gwendel. On the opposite side of the throne, Lord Varick's body had been sprawled out, his hair a mangled mess stretching over the carpet and down the first step.

"This is bad." Murata stared at the throne as well. His voice didn't sound as repressed as Wolfram's. Maybe their captor found him more tolerable than the brothers.

"I can't get them to wake up," Conrad rasped, eyes narrowing at the sight. "I've only been awake a little longer than both of you."

Wolfram dragged his eyes back to Conrad, unaware of how raw they looked. "Conrart…"

Conrad's heart fell at the sight.

"Shh. Someone's coming." Murata stilled, his eyes facing toward the corner of the room, adjacent to the throne.

Shuffling, a wheeze, and more shuffling. A figure came through, cloaked. As it moved, the garment couldn't hide the crevices of old age along his exposed chin and nose.

"Ah, you're up. Good, good," the voice confirmed it; it was parched, the voice of a man who had told many tales and lived just as many.

Blood boiled under Wolfram's skin. He knew it before The Great Sage even asked his question.

"Are you the Puppeteer, Master of the dolls?" Murata asked.

Wolfram strained to turn his neck more. He saw the old, hidden man waddle with a curve in his back. He cradled something in his arms. Whatever it was, its feet poked out from beneath the blanket covering it. Wolfram couldn't believe such a frail creature could carry another person.

"I am," the elder said.

Wolfram exhaled shakily. "You-"

"You've taken over the castle," Conrad interjected. He didn't look at Wolfram but could feel the wrath oozing out of his brother.

The Puppeteer stood beside Gwendel, never turning his shadowed face to them. "Why, yes. Mind you, it was no easy feat. I waited a long time to pull such a thing off. Loyal Gwendel, please pull a seat up for me."

Wolfram cried out—tried to—at the horrid image of Gwendel's fingers twitching under the string's spell. One leg pushed up first, then the other, until the soldier stood tall. His head was still down as his body moved, lifting and setting down a large seat beside the throne.

"How dare you," Wolfram spat as best he could.

"Thank you," the Puppeteer said, coughed, and then lowered the figure into the seat. When he stepped away, Wolfram was frustrated that a cloth smothered the person's face from view.

Conrad made a sound and they soon found out it was one of weak dismay. Yuri had started stirring, his droopy eyes battling to pull reality into focus. His eyes, as dark as they usually were, were hazy and lost.

"Shibuya." Murata grit his teeth, riddled with concern. "Shibuya, snap out of it…"

"Your Highness!"

Yuri lifted his head but the glazed look didn't lift. "Con…."

"Don't strain yourself, Your Highness," the Puppeteer came closer and soothed his hair, "You're recovering. I had to put you a bit under so you wouldn't lose control of yourself. I still have much need of you."

"D-Don't…TOUCH HIM!" Wolfram gagged at his words, feeling the cords about to rip his skin. When they didn't, he gasped, and found himself able to take deep breaths again.

He looked up and the Puppeteer loomed over him.

_So fast._ Wolfram quickly replaced his stunned expression with something more intimidating.

"Wolfram von Bielefeld. Please, don't hurt yourself. It took me a long while to find an outfit appropriate for what's to come for you."

"Ch-Children?"

"You mean the dolls." Conrad clenched his fingers as much as he could. He kept close awareness of when they would lax even the slightest.

"The dolls, yes."

Wolfram cringed when a spider-legged hand crept along his face. "Wolfram. When I saw you, I knew you were perfect, a specimen so gorgeous with the spirit to match. I was sure no one could match the golden beauty of your mother. You are beyond her though."

"Don't you ever speak of my mother again!" Wolfram tried to bite the hand. Itearned his chin a cruel hold.

"You'll see." With the cryptic message, the Puppeteer released him and made to the throne again. "You won't find me so repulsive soon enough."

Conrad, whose stomach had churned more than enough times to last him years at how the man spoke to Wolfram, jerked his arms against the restraints. "What happened to Miss Maiden? What have you done to His Highness and Gwendel? And what of Lord Varick?"

"Bah, Varick!" The Puppeteer snagged Lord Varick's hair and yanked his head up, revealing a doll—void of life—staring back at them. "He was close to obtaining his dream! Look at him now. I've taken him out of this shell. A shell I had worked so long to make just for him."

"Lord Varick, the one who supplied all that financial gain, then was always—" Murata didn't have to finish to know the others knew by now.

The Puppeteer lowered the puppet's body again. "Was me, indeed. I gave him the chance to fulfill my doing and what a mess he made. He came and tried to kill poor Wolfram von Bielefeld under some misguided judgment. Bah! Then he plays along with Miss Maiden. It was good that I found them in time."

"In time?" Wolfram growled.

By now, the elder had moved to Gwendel and began undoing his hair tie. "This is no good. Your hair should be down. You look much more handsome with it down."

Wolfram bashed his head back into the seat, dragging his legs up and down against the ties. "Don't touch him I said!"

He went ignored. "As for your other inquiries, I'm not one to supply much information," the Puppeteer continued, "I can say that Lord Varick and Miss Maiden, I discovered, were plotting against me. I'll know what they intended soon enough and remedy it.

Now, as for this strapping soldier. I believe his vessel to be part of a great endeavor," the Puppeteer stopped to rest a palm over Gwendel's chest, "Yes. A fine specimen. I decided on it after learning more about him through Miss Maiden's play time with you. She didn't treat you all too well. Shame."

"What will you do then?" Conrad asked. He couldn't help tensing whenever the old bastard put his hands on Yuri's head or through Gwendel's hair.

"Lord Weller, my children have needs. They need retribution, a chance at new life. Their stories have touched me and for a long time, I have taken their souls into these crafted dolls. My father was a doll maker and his father before him, you know. I'm quite good at what I do.

These dolls are very broken, each of them, full of sorrow and rage. I see innocence in them though. Together we'll have our own home. The low will rise as nobles and the kings and queens who had forgotten them will fall to their knees, nothing more than a common whore."

The Puppeteer faced them with a grim curl upturning his thin lips. His hand extended forward and exuded a green glow. From the center of the carpet, a pedestal emerged, supporting a pillow and a frail, porcelain male doll with the deep, green eyes.

"Lord Weller, Great Sage, your bodies will follow in Gwendel's footsteps," he said, approaching the doll, "And, while we're on you, Great Sage, I wonder about something. Miss Maiden had spoken to you and Lord von Voltaire during your challenge, hadn't she? She revealed about me, about my intentions, and that I was soon to find you all through her eyes."

Murata smirked faintly. "She did and Lord von Voltaire didn't care for it."

Wolfram paled at how desperate Gwendel had looked before he had been snatched up. _Gwendel…_

"I've yet to find out what she said exactly and why she had revealed herself only to one of her beloved's brothers. Please indulge me. As you can see, he came into my property once I broke her spell." Two thin hands took the doll, stroked back its sandy hair, and adjusted its breeches.

"Beats me." Murata looked innocently to the side.

The Puppeteer stopped tending to the doll. "Is that so?"

Wolfram seethed. He knew the damn Wise Man knew why and by the look Conrad had, the brunette had the same opinion. All they could do was cling to the Puppeteer's words for now, make sense of the madness. That's what Wolfram reminded himself, but his eyes kept flicking back to his brother and Yuri. It was good he was sitting; he couldn't rely on the strength of his legs right now.

"Very so," Murata said, managing a smile.

"Your Eminence," the doll said.

Wolfram ogled the doll as its painted lips shifted and spoke so brokenly. "It's…alive…?"

The Puppeteer extended out his hand, his fingers around the flimsy neck. "I was hoping for information so I could spare Lord Varick's soul from extermination. Once the original doll where the soul is kept shatters, so does the soul. I assure you he won't go to a better place."

"Do you take me to be as kind as the Great Demon King?" Murata asked, eyes enigmatic.

"No. You're far cleverer than that. But you're one for information, which I'm not willing to share much of. Lord Varick, however, might be willing to if you spared his life. That is also assuming you can find a way to speak to him before I complete my plans."

Wolfram scowled, feeling that the drop—though only a few feet—seemed much more sinister by the manner in which the Puppeteer held Lord Varick's doll body.

"Lord von Voltaire wasn't quite as eager to answer me, though he had plenty of other things to say. I made sure to keep his lips sealed for a long while."

**-x-**

Gwendel stood still. His eyes, heavy lidded, stared at the stained carpet beneath his boots. He heard what was said, could hear Wolfram's screaming even though it came little above a ragged breath. It clashed against his eardrums regardless. Near his side, he could feel his King struggling with the same spell he was also under.

"Gwe…" The King's voice was below a whisper. The threads gently pulled at his fingers when he tried to move his hand off the armrest, like a mother tugging her child back at her side.

Gwendel heard a lot and felt little. His memory tried to tug out the challenge he had faced with The Great Sage, where Miss Maiden herself greeted them. She had said much nonsense, most of which Gwendel tucked away as the ramble of a mad, love-struck girl.

There was something she had said though, something he should remember.

He heard Wolfram cry out again.

Gwendel, for the briefest moment, felt that a wave had shot him back but he could see his feet hadn't moved a bit. His mind had flown back though, back into what he thought were his memories of youth. Wolfram was there. It must have been Wolfram by the adoring face and bright hair. Odd that he thought he had seen a child Wolfram partly a nuisance when now viewed the shattered memories in new lights. Wolfram was…

Wolfram. He'd be…in danger? The word felt foreign in his mind. Gwendel felt his face twitch, then his fingers. String nipped at him but he curled them anyway, slowly, agonizingly, until he could make a fist.

"Gwen…"

Gwendel hadn't realized how strong the hex was until his sense of feeling began to return. Hearing his King, Wolfram, the plucking of the strings around him, and remembering those wretched fingers that had drifted through his hair, Gwendel groaned internally. Pain tore up his legs and his back ached, lips burned, and eyes felt too heavy to be in their sockets.

He saw from the corner of his eye how much his King trembled in one arm.

Miss Maiden. Gwendel remembered her occasionally, her memory coming in bursts like thunder. He remembered the Puppeteer's onslaught on him when he had refused to give information. He remembered, before falling into his third drought of consciousness, that he had to conserve his energy and focus for the sake of his King and what was to come. And do…what? She had told him something, showered a spell on him to do…what? Something should her Master intervene.

When Yuri took in a sharp intake of air, Gwendel's eyes snapped opened.

He remembered.

**-x-**

"May I ask, first, if those imposters we've met were a product of yours or Miss Maiden's doing?" Murata asked, not daring to glance behind the Puppeteer. "I'd like to know if there are more running around the castle. You know what I am talking about, right?"

"Of course they were fake— illusions. To create such fine dolls like that, tangible dolls, require much more skill than she can ever hope to have," the Puppeteer stated, one finger uncurling from Lord Varick's neck, "And I assure you that your bodies will serve as great vessels for my children."

Conrad's eyes widened. "Is that what you plan for all of us then?" His eyes flicked to Wolfram.

Another finger came off Lord Varick's neck. "Wolfran von Bielefeld will have a higher glory than that. Now, Great Sage…"

"Yes. I'll speak to you about it. Privately."

"Your Eminence," Conrad turned his head halfway to glance at the boy.

The Puppeteer deposited the doll back onto the pillow and a cage grew from the pillow laces, locking Lord Varick in. "You're wise for a reason. Well done. Let's make some preparations then. It's soon time to celebrate!"

Wolfram was surprised that when the elder snapped his fingers, he hadn't lost a thumb in the process. The strings chimed to life and Conrad was hauled up to his feet, arms yanked behind his back with resistance. "Hey! Where are you taking him?"

Conrad's groan preceded a sudden rush of commotion. Figures scurried into the room, dolls of all colors entering and drifting to various locations. A cluster formed around Wolfram.

"Look at him! He's perfect!"

A doll tugged at his shirt. "He's prettier than anybody I've seen!"

"Like an angel!"

"He's our new Prince!" Another doll rested her face on his hand.

Wolfram's face contorted and he failed to repress his squeaks and outcries when the dolls scampered up his legs. They doted him with compliments and caresses. "Get off me! I'm not your Prince!"

One scampered up onto his shoulder, blocking his view of Yuri and Gwendel. "Hey! Get off I said! You! Puppeteer! I demand you come back this INSTANT!"

"Wolfram," a voice said and Wolfram looked ahead. Lord Varick had moved, though it was slow and pained. "I'm sorry it came to this. I hadn't expected...His power has grown greatly since I last saw him. I'm so sorry."

"Lord Varick, it's really you." Wolfram wasn't sure if he should curse at him or not. What aroused his temper was a disarray of finger-pointing and he couldn't calculate how much of it went on Lord Varick.

"Mah, what a mess all of this is, isn't it?" Murata made a little 'oop' sound as he, too, was forced to stand. His treatment was far less crude as Conrad's. Dolls rushed around his legs, some galloping around him in earnest.

"It's the Wise Man!"

"His hair and eyes are black too!"

Murata chuckled on their behalf. "It seems some of you are aware of me. Are any of you demon tribesmen by any chance?"

"Don't answer that," the Puppeteer said from ahead. He was busying removing the cloth around the figure that had been laid on the chair.

Conrad grunted, finding some leverage in the cords. He kept surveying what he could. Thus far, he saw no signs of anyone from the castle. What had happened to Greta and the others? His mother? Were they alive?

Forced to a halt with another tug, Conrad's thoughts vanished at the unveiling of the figure. His shoulders drooped and he had to blink a few times to confirm what he saw.

The doll was a meticulous replica of The Demon King. The hair was the same length, even his half-closed eyes had been sliced to replicate that of a reptile.

"What is this?" Conrad demanded.

The Puppeteer chuckled and straightened the doll so it sagged less. Then he ran his fingers through Yuri's hair. "I've had those watching for me recount his appearance. It took a long time but from your reaction, I take it I've done a fine job."

"Wh-" Conrad grunted when the strings yanked at his injured back.

"Hush, hush. I have things to do so that I may speak with The Great Sage." The Puppeteer smiled at Yuri's quivering. "It seems our King is coming to faster than I had hoped. I want him conscious for what's to come but for now," he snapped his fingers again, "Lord von Voltaire, please help me move the King."

Conrad tried to protest but whatever force moved his limbs pulled him down on all fours.

"In the meantime, Lord Weller, have a little taste of humility." The Puppeteer nodded to the brunette and drifted out of the room. "I'll be ready for the Wise Man in a moment."

At the silent command, dolls raced over to Conrad in a giggling fit. A boy tugged at his ears and arm until it had hoisted itself up onto his back. Two more joined, bouncing on it. Conrad hissed and his cheeks flared up when he felt his bum smacked.

"Go, horsie, go!" the boy cheered, nudging Conrad's head with a hard hand.

And he did, crawling on all fours, heading out of the throne room toward the open courtyard. He clenched his jaw with each forced step.

The moment he broke into the courtyard, Conrad felt his resistance drop. Sound exploded where once he had heard nothing but a breeze in the throne room. He could hear distant wails, cruel laughter as clear as the skies were soaked in bright colors. It was deep in the night but half of the sky had burned and streaked the clouds orange.

"Your Highness," Conrad breathed, forgetting the dolls that toyed with him. He couldn't believe it.

The Demon Kingdom was on fire.

Inside, Wolfram called for him again.

"Conrart! Conra-Ugh, get OFF!" Wolfram shook his head and growled when it was held still. A doll with red curls gave him a look before she went back to applying blush to his cheeks.

The Great Sage spared him a gaze. Wolfram didn't know what to make of it.

"Stay still!" A doll patted powder now onto his nose.

Wolfram gagged at the abundance of white dust smoking off his face. He coughed and glared at her.

He had to escape. Yuri needed him, his brothers needed him. In his desperation, Wolfram shut his eyes, tried to block out the giggles and antics of the dolls, and thought intensely. He yelped when cold fingers tangled in his hair.

_Miss Maiden, where are you? _Wolfram thought harder, biting his tongue to keep his voice in head started pounding at the mere effort.

_..y…Pri…_

Wolfram tensed.

_Miss Maiden? Is that you? I don't know if you hear me but if you do, I hope you're happy. Look what you've done! Look what you did to us! To me! I'll never forgive you. If you wanted me so badly you should have gone about it another way!_

…_ince…_

_You wretched thing! You were supposed to be gone! I…_

Wolfram exhaled hard, his head drooping down as far is it could. How could it come to this?

_Pri…_

How could she have betrayed him so badly after everything? Fleeting images of their union strained his mind. A doll had brought him relief. When he knew how much of a brat others thought him and how he wouldn't let his pride dampen by showing weakness, he would unload his ranting onto her.

And she would listen. Wolfram vividly recalled when she first spoke. Before, it had been tricks of his mind—or so he had told himself. But one day, she really spoke. It was the day he should have removed her from his life. Perhaps it had been too late by then.

_Prince…My…_

"I am not your Prince!" Wolfram didn't hear himself shout. "I am not their Prince! I am not a Prince anymore! To anyone!"

The trickle of her voice stopped in his mind. Wolfram shook beneath the strings, eyes swelling.

And then, his fingers clenched. It took him a moment to acknowledge they had the freedom to do so. Wolfram opened his eyes, grimaced at the doll cupping his cheek, and glanced down.

The lines had loosened. Wolfram stared at it like the joke would end and he'd be fastened down again.

And when it didn't, he broke his arm free and raised it high above his head, fueling his hand with all the turmoil that had built up in his heart.

"Hear me all particles that dwell in flame!"

Miss Maiden's spell was no longer repressing his magic and the dolls' painted eyes expressed their horror. They scrambled, some screaming, as Wolfram felt fire fracturing the air around his clawed fingers.

Fire swarmed over his head, stretching until a monstrous beast's jaws broke through and let out a snarl.

Wolfram cried out hard when the threads around his other arm and chest tightened, restricting his breathing. He heard the dolls yelling at him to stop.

"N-Never," he managed, closing one eye at the pain.

The feline monstrosity above him howled and tore off the plane of fire. It launched onto the carpet, the dolls already having hurried away to safer ground. Some lingered, using what magic they had been gifted with to stop the raging creature.

Wolfram focused his will into the beast, trying to keep it from mauling anyone; Yuri wouldn't want that. "R-Run," he ordered Murata and with another roar, the feline shredded the strands binding the double black.

"Lord vo-" Murata lost his words in a gasp as he shielded himself from the bright fire. He looked around, finding his limbs free and he took the instant to dodge before the dolls could snatch him up again. "Shibuya!"

Before he could reach the throne, a gust of wind shot at him, sending him reeling into the courtyard.

"Y-Your Eminence…!" Conrad tried to reach for him as the boy rolled to a stop.

The chaos had brewed to a dangerous boil on the carpet. Gwendel sensed it before it had happened and he could feel the Puppeteer returning soon. His will had already sobered him up and now all he had to overcome was the incantation over his limbs.

Then, the cords forcing him to reach for his King snapped. He was free.

One hand went for Yuri's strings and the other scrabbled at the sutures on his lips. "Your Highness! Yuri, snap out of it!" he shouted when his lips broke free. Neverminding the burn or the blood, he struggled harder, wrenching the twine that wouldn't release the King. Even worse, Gwendel was secretly mortified The Demon King doll beside them would somehow awaken at any moment.

"Brother!"

Gwendel glanced back at Wolfram who bore a few new scratches. As ridiculous as his face looked, the fire cat still roared behind him. By how deeply his younger brother's chest caved in, it would vanish any moment.

"Help me get these off him," he said over his shoulder.

Wolfram lurched to the side and steadied himself. He panted and nodded, stumbling forward after collecting his wits. "Do you feel it…?"

"Yes. Something's poisoned the castle. You won't be able to use your magic long."

"You're hurt," Wolfram observed but his fingers were pulling furiously at Yuri.

Gwendel didn't respond, knowing his eyes must have been in a daze still. Part of him felt trapped and he groaned hard, resisting whatever it was that the Puppeteer had done to him. There was also that other piece of work done on him, one Gwendel hesitated to release. His thought process broke, pain racking down his back and digging into his nerves.

"Brother!" Wolfram watched, terrified when Gwendel hunched over.

Nausea overcame him. Gwendel hacked and shut his eyes tightly. "W-We have to hurry!"

Yuri's eyes lifted up to them. "Wolf…ram?"

The voice put Wolfram's back to work though they burned and screamed at him to stop by now. "I'm here, Yuri, we'll get you out!"

"Wolfram, look!" Lord Varick's voice made both brothers snap around.

The Puppeteer stood at the west entrance of the throne room, his feet hidden by the throng of dolls shuffling around him. Those had had successfully vanquished Wolfram's fire beast now stalked closer, cornering the brothers in with anything but welcoming eyes. They muttered and spat less-than-charming descriptions about them amongst themselves.

"Do you really think I'd let you leave so easily? This castle is under my fingertips," the elder's voice was disappointed. A scrawny finger extended and waved back and forth. "I comment the willpower you have though."

Wolfram turned at the sound of more dolls and found The Great Sage and a bound Conrad. Dolls escorted them none too gently back into the room. At the sight of Conrad's borderline furious face, Wolfram knew the severity of their situation had ballooned.

"Eyes up there, Wolfram" the Puppeteer said.

The ceiling groaned and they all, save Yuri, glanced up at hands forming out of it.

"And you, Gwendel," the Puppeteer continued, bending his finger.

Gwendel grunted and collapsed to one knee, his spine curving as the finger did.

"Brother! Stop that! Now!" Wolfram shot his hand up again. "Fire that dw-"

The other thin hand tore out. Wires exploded from it and locked onto Wolfram's wrist. The blonde bellowed at the pain that radiated through his core. Another set of strings ripped out and took him by his other arm, snagging into his skin so that he had no choice but be dragged back to the Puppeteer.

"No!" Wolfram stared at the others, watching their faced contort as the dolls advanced on them. Conrad was the worst off, his threads still biting into him the more he struggled.

Gwendel brought his eyes up, watching terror take over Wolfram's face. "Wolfram," he croaked and his eyes dropped again to the ground in fatigue.

The ground.

With his hand now his to control, Gwendel went to work. The man quickly spread his fingers over the dirtied carpet. Pressing into the lush floor beneath hard, Gwendel moved his lips, speaking in the lowest of murmurs. "Obey me, those that lay in earth…"

The earth shivered in understanding. A ripple effect took place, waves of quakes tearing through the castle's foundation without preamble. Before anyone comprehended what he had started, Gwendel poured his concentration into a yell and spikes ripped from the ground, separating the Puppeteer from their King.

"Lord von Voltaire!" Murata jumped at the opportunity to wiggle free from the dolls, rushing to Conrad's side to help break him free.

Conrad let out a much needed gasp at freedom. Swordless, he still bounded without another word to Yuri, finding his godson's eyes still lost. "Yuri! Yuri!"

Gwendel's eyes widened at the agony. It took chunks out of his will. He grinded his teeth and kept at it, focusing the earth's raw power into action. Spears of earth attacked the throne until they had set the King free.

"Wolfram!" Gwendel called out, searching for his brother's voice among the chaos. He snarled and smacked a doll away, only to find more coming for them.

"We have to keep them away," Murata said. He watched Gwendel's expression, knowing the difficult decision the man had to make. Wolfram wasn't in their group but with the Puppeteer, in a fight for his own life, alone.

Gwendel's arms shook. What he had to do next made his brotherly instincts kick him in the gut.

He directed his conflicted emotions into a glare, directed at the dolls while his hands pushed against the ground again. Earth tore the floor apart and curved over them, forming a dome as temporary protection and consequently leaving Wolfram to fend for himself. He collapsed onto his hands and tried to riel in his stomach and justify that he had done the right thing for the Demon Kingdom. It didn't do his stomach any better. A part of him scolded him for not having done what he had originally planned to do but it didn't matter now.

Murata frowned at him, sympathizing for a moment before his attention went back to Yuri. "We have to get Shibuya out." He whirled around when something struck at their mini-fortress. He could hear Wolfram's shouts and protests from beyond as well, growing distant. "Lord Weller."

Conrad was already hoisting Yuri to his feet when he saw the look on Murata's face. "Your Eminence?"

"We need Shibuya to come to his senses," Murata smiled up at him, "I'm afraid I won't be much use right after this."

Without waiting for a reply, Murata extended his hand to Yuri and did his own share of concentration. Blue light radiated from his body, lighting up the dark cave Gwendel had encased them in. His powers poured into Yuri and The Great Sage's eyes turned weak as he felt his energy deplete fast.

**-x-**

Yuri felt a pulse in his eardrums. Whether it was his own, he couldn't confirm but he had a sudden awareness now that had been lost for a long time. He had seen his comrades, heard their struggle, and all the while he felt like an observer to a dream. No, a nightmare.

Then, power had pumped into him. He felt it, his energy and will, all his own, had him opening his eyes despite how exhausted his body still felt.

"Conrad," he said, looking into the worried face of his godfather.

"Your Highness," the man sounded relieved and his grip on Yuri tightened.

Yuri glanced around, found Murata on the ground, out of breath, and Gwendel's efforts going into a standing position. There was a putrid stench of blood coming from both brothers.

That's when it clicked.

Yuri's eyes went wide, blank even, for a moment while memories of what had transpired sunk in. Their capture, Lord Varick, the Puppeteer, Conrad and the dolls, Gwendel's cracked lips, a fierce lion, and Wolfram's scream. The man responsible for so much stood on the other side of the dirt spikes, he knew that now.

"Yuri?" Conrad was nudging him, tugging at his side. "Gwendel, we're going to have to move soon. Are you able to use your magic again?"

"Wolfram, everyone," Yuri muttered to himself, staring at nothing. Life came back into his gaze when he heard an echoing cry from Wolfram.

_Wolfram…!_

The blonde's name rang in his head and Yuri crumbled back into his mind.

When his eyes opened again, The Demon King was awake.

**-x-X-x-...TBC...-x-X-x-**

Congratulations! You got through the longest chapter!

Thank you **so, so** much from the deepest bits of my heart to those who still support the story. I hope to hear from you but if not, I understand, considering how exhausting this chapter must have been. Still, thanks anyway for reading :)

Chapter 10 is already about 1/3 done so I'll probably post that soon. **The Dragon's Triangle** (my other Yuuram WIP) will be updated this weekend as well.

See you soon!


	10. Save Me

**Author's Note: **Thanks for keeping up with me and for the wonderful comments! I was so happy to hear from people still reading this. Here's another long chapter! No significant warnings to share.

Did my best to edit this and post it in the same day lol Forgive any errors.

**-x-X-x-…Save Me…-x-X-x-**

Justice had to be done.

The Demon King's power propelled his subordinates a good few feet aside as his water beasts made a meal of the earthy barrier. Light rippled off his form, his eyes fierce and striking fear into the still hearts of the Puppeteer's minions.

Wolfram saw the light before he heard the explosion. Vision swimming, the blonde lifted his head with great effort from where it hung on his chest. "Yuri," he whispered, drawing in a big breath and prepared himself to wrestle against the restraints on him.

Where the dolls had failed to break down the spikes, The Demon King's water evaporated it in an instant. Pebbles rained down on them and Wolfram had to shut his eyes. A hard yank and he was being dragged out of the room.

"No! Let go!" Wolfram didn't look back, only opened his eyes to stare ahead. His heart fluttered and his eyes went large. Among the slowly cascading debris and dolls, The Demon King stood in all his grandeur.

Their eyes met and Wolfram saw the dragons come straight at him.

Wolfram cried out regardless of the intentions, unable to wield a strong face when the beasts shrieked and snapped their jaws. One dragon curled around him, biting and tearing apart the restraints before moving to chase after The Puppeteer.

By the time Wolfram had wiggled out and looked up again, The Demon King stood above him, eyes straight ahead. "Oh, Yuri…"

A beastly wail had Wolfram looking over his shoulder. Dragons had raced toward the Puppeteer and crashed into a fabricated shield of threads and eerie mist.

"Splendid, Your Highness," the Puppeteer laughed, then wheezed, "However, this is no longer your castle. I worked too hard to let this opportunity slip."

His palm shot out at them and a gust of magic rushed forward. Wolfram felt his arm pulled roughly and the glowing chest of The Demon King met his face. The sound of magic on magic broke his cool and Wolfram clung to his fiancé as The Demon King snarled, using his own magic to shield them from the onslaught.

"You coward. How dare you use the lives as others as puppets for your interests? You will be punished for your crimes!"

But even Wolfram could sense the constriction in The King's chest.

A sick realization hit Wolfram: whatever curse on the castle that had made him ill from using his powers was affecting The Demon King as well. "Yuri, stop! You can't—there's," Wolfram shut up, burying his face when The Demon King bellowed and let his magic grow feral.

"Shibuya!" Murata braced himself against Conrad. They could see their King from the doorway, struggling. "Shibuya! We have to get out. This a trap! We must go! The Kingdom needs you. It's in flames!"

Wolfram gasped at those words. The Kingdom was on fire? He lurched forward, facing the Puppeteer. "You! Where is Mother, Greta, the others?"

In return, they got an old man's weak cackle and the trembling of the castle walls. They bore cracks, possibly from Gwendel's earlier magical onslaught, and now ghostly hands crept through them. The dolls, previously thrown in disarray around the room found their vigor and began straightening themselves once more.

"Get me our Prince, children," the Puppeteer said, "Forget the others for now. They're not worth the trouble."

Wolfram glared at him, searching for a pair of eyes under the hood.

All he got was a smile. "Yet, that is."

"Shibuya!" Murata tried again, face paling.

The Demon King flicked his eyes up when he heard a massive creak. A giant hand fell down upon them, bashing into their shield. Power crackled around them and The Demon King grunted at the ache growing in his head.

His head fell back and a vicious yell left his royal lips, sending water gushing after the hands. He kept them at bay, both from his fiancé and his loyal subject behind him. Pain accumulating, The Demon King kept up the fight, rage feeding his acts.

"Yuri!" Wolfram grabbed the double black's strong shoulders, feeling them tremble. His mind raced. He couldn't dare use his own magic now but could he somehow offer Yuri an outlet. Images of The Great Sage doing it prompted Wolfram to snatch The Demon King around his neck and press a hard kiss to a paling cheek.

"Yuri," he tried once more, softer this time and against his King's ear, "I can't let you lose yourself. Please."

Whether or not The Demon King acknowledged him, Wolfram couldn't tell. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the energy reserved for magic. He flinched at the cacophony growing louder around them once, twice, as he pulled at the force inside of him and sacrificed it to The Demon King.

The Demon King's hand wrapped tighter around Wolfram as the blonde's energy washed over him. With one last look to the Puppeteer, he said, "I will return to exact justice. We're not done."

"Of course, Your Highness."

Wolfram heard the old man's words, the last he would hear for a while. He felt his body grow heavy but didn't see himself slump into The Demon King's strong arms. Sound felt like it had become a tangible thing floating above his head and though Wolfram felt movement, he didn't know where he was going.

He only felt his body pressed closer to something warm before he blacked out.

**-x-X-x-**

This time, Wolfram remembered losing consciousness. When he came to, he stayed still for a moment as he struggled to win over the weight of waking up from a deep sleep. And then he reacted when he didn't feel Yuri in his arms—the last memory he had.

He bolted up, eyes snapping open and hungry to take in enemy signs.

But instead of a painted, glass face Wolfram met one that resembled his own.

"Mother?" he said with a rasp to his voice.

"Oh, Wolfram!" His mother's teary eyes melted and she buried her face in her son's shoulder. "My beautiful Wolfram…"

"Mother!" Wolfram said her name again as if it would break the taunting spell. She was still there though, her arms trembling against him. He relaxed in her embrace and took the gift of returning her hug, feeling her alive and well. Wolfram noted that she was covered in a cloak but even without it, Wolfram betted she would have felt just as warm as she ever did.

Before he could question further, she was already speaking against his shoulder. "When we saw you all, I-," she exhaled a little more dramatically than Wolfram's heart wanted, "I was so happy. You were all okay."

Straightening, Wolfram leaned back. His mother caught on and she did as well, leaving one hand against his cheek. She smoothed back his hair, brushed his brows, and said, "His Highness saved the towns bordering the castle. We're in a village, all of us."

Wolfram slightly leaned into her touch, partly to take off the weight of his head from his tired neck. "Mother, what happened? Where's Yuri?"

She smiled weakly, in that reluctant way she always did when she had to share less than favorable facts with her sons. Nonetheless, she told her story, meanwhile making Wolfram comfortable. Wolfram furrowed his eyebrows as she explained that after her release, she woke up outside of the castle, surrounded by concerned demon tribesmen. One by one, the others Wolfram recognized to have been captives in Miss Maiden's game had been released, shaken up but unscathed. None of them could approach the castle and had taken refuge in villages further away.

More chilling, Wolfram struggled with the knowledge that the kingdom was victim to an attack. Dolls stalked the area, setting flame to homes and terrorizing its inhabitants.

"We knew you must have been inside still and yet we weren't able to approach the castle," Lady Celi placed a hand over her heart as if to calm it, "We've been so busy during this chaos. It was a miracle when we saw you all. You were so pale…"

Wolfram clenches his fists. "And Yuri?"

Lady Celi looked up with a bolder smile. "His Highness wasn't with you at first but we realized that he was saving the towns, putting the fires out and forcing the enemy forces back. He's in a room in-Wolfram, darling!"

"Mother!" Wolfram grunted as she pushed him down. As delicate as his mother looked, she had a fierce way of settling him down like he was nothing but twenty years old again.

"Wolfram, you've been asleep for half a day now. You need to rest," his mother's voice didn't allow for dispute but she added, gently, "Let me tell the others. His Higness may be sleeping still as well."

Wolfram suddenly felt terrible for having forgotten what had happened not that long ago. "Gwendel! He was reall-"

His mother chuckled. It was a soft, short sound but did wonders for Wolfram's psyche. "All my darling children are safe, Wolfram," she paused, her eyes turning down and sad then, "However, Gwendel…"

"Mother?"

She met his eyes. In that one gesture, Wolfram felt it. Her guilt, though she had no inclination to the situation, overwhelmed him. Wolfram broke the eye contact but didn't jerk away when she cupped his face again. By the touch and the look, Wolfram knew someone had told her (if not Miss Maiden during the games) the details of their troubles.

But his mother didn't mention what she had learned or what she thought of it. She put her love into rubbing his cheek as she said, "Gwendel and the others will speak to you. Let me get them, dear."

Wolfram rested his hand over hers slowly. "Mother…"

She smiled and waited.

Lifting his eyes again, Wolfram whispered, "I'm glad you're safe."

Her expression blossomed. Leaning over, Lady Celi kissed the golden curls and left the room. When she did, Wolfram felt the weight of everything fall back onto his chest. He exhaled sharply, took in the room with a keen eye. It was a simple room, barely adorned with personal belongings. He guessed it to belong to an inn or a guest bed in someone's home.

Despite his mother's earlier words, Wolfram forced himself up. He smelled clean and he guessed someone had bathed him but by the scent, his mother had lathered him up in some kind of oil for the delight it had on the nose. He was out of the awful, tacky outfit and that alone made his mood jump up a level.

He grunted, needing to use the bed's frame and wall to move to the window. He pulled back the curtain, wincing at how harsh it felt on his eyes when he did. The sky was a muted orange, underlined with the blue of daylight. The orange was streaked with purple that got thicker toward the west. Wolfram guessed that was the direction of the castle and the maimed sky was a result of whatever the Puppeteer had done.

Outside, Wolfram could see constant movement. Soldiers rushed to and fro and certainly had determination built into their moves. Maybe it was a result of Yuri's presence that heightened their spirits. Wolfram could only fathom what their own hell must have been like during the last couple of days. Though Lady Celi hadn't been sure, she estimated that they had been trapped in Miss Maiden's game for more than a couple of days.

And it was all his fault. Wolfram leaned his forehead against his supporting arm. Memories of everything they had endured because of some sick obsession a doll had with him. Wolfram didn't even know what to make of the Puppeteer.

Or, for that matter, why the captives had been released unharmed. Had Miss Maiden purposely let them go safely? Surely not. Could she?

Wolfram suddenly remembered when he was set free in the throne room. He had thought he heard Miss Maiden's whimpering in his head. Had she somehow been a catalyst to their freedom?

"Not only should you be in bed but thinking that hard might make you pass out, Your Excellency."

Wolfram jolted at the voice and he turned to see the familiar, obnoxious grin of Yosak. He came in, Conrad in tow, but his mother wasn't. Perhaps she had wanted them to have privacy. Wolfram didn't like that, his stomach already uneasy from both these men in his tired presence.

"Wolfram," Conrad was already moving to him.

More to avoid being handled, Wolfram—with a grumble—sat back down on the bed, but didn't lie down. He didn't want to be handled anymore. He had enough of that to last him a couple of centuries.

Conrad smiled at the action. He too was changed, in something more appropriate for a soldier. "Mother told us you already had a talk with her. How are you feeling?"

To his own surprise, Wolfram said, "Fine." He was a little woozy from the deep sleep and he had a heck of a lot of emotional mending, but he felt much better than he had in a while.

Conrad nodded, looking relieved. He sported a few bandages to his face and probably more under his uniform. "Yuri is still asleep," he explained when Wolfram shot him a look.

"Is he…?"

"He's alright. He used a lot of power."

"He got us to escape?" Wolfram didn't really want to go into a lot of details right away but he couldn't help but wonder.

Conrad's reaction mirrored his mother's. The man resembled Lady Celi in more ways than he probably knew, Wolfram thought bitterly. "What?" he snapped.

"Wolfram," Conrad began, "You sho-"

"Don't tell me what I should do," Wolfram hissed, "Answer my question."

Yosak broke into a nervous laugh and waved off Wolfram's growing anger. "Now, now, you've all been through a lot. Things haven't been easy here either though so let's not get upset."

"Indeed. You shouldn't be pushing it Lord von Bielefeld."

Great, Wolfram grumbled internally. Another face he didn't want to see. The Great Sage smiled meekly and came in, squeezing past the two men. He looked paler than usual and Wolfram couldn't help relish that things didn't go so well planned for the shrewd boy.

"Your Eminence." Conrad frowned at him.

Murata gave him an assuring glance. "It's thanks to Lord von Bielefeld that Shibuya lasted so long. Sure I gave him some power but it really doesn't compare to how much Lord von Bielefeld gave. He is far more passionate after all."

Wolfram glared at him, and not just because of how the boy took a seat on his bed. "Yuri really saved the town?" he asked, his anger softening.

Murata nodded. "Mm. He was quite a spectacle. Of course, I passed out pretty soon into it," he laughed, "But I heard stories. We came just in time."

"Everyone is really okay then?" Wolfram turned back to Conrad and Yosak.

Neither denied it. "It seems so. Even the servants are here," Conrad said. He didn't let his emotions on the waltz show on his face.

"However, there is the matter of-"

"Yosak," Conrad interjected, giving his companion a harsh stare.

Yosak scoffed. "He's going to find out sooner or later and knowing him, if he finds out later, he'll throw a bigger fit."

Putting the half-insult aside, Wolfram straightened. "Tell me what?" Wolfram already suspected what it was though.

Defeated, Conrad sighed and reluctantly started. "We were able to get out because of…Gwendel."

"Brother?" Wolfram tilted his head. Last he remembered, Gwendel was a mess, which was saying a lot for the tank his brother typically was.

Conrad struggled with the right words.

"The effects of Miss Maiden's game seemed to have stayed on Lord von Voltaire," Murata offered, leaning back on his hands.

The implications had Wolfram's head swimming. "What? What happened to Gwen-"

"Relax," Murata assured, "He's not in critical condition. It's more like, for the time being, he's been granted…gifts."

"I wouldn't consider given powers by this," Yosak wrinkled his nose, "_doll_ thing a gift."

Wolfram felt his stomach acting up, rising into his throat. "Miss Maiden…did something to him?"

Murata sighed, a reluctant sound. "When we were separated, Lord von Voltaire and I were greeted by Miss Maiden. She told us that the Puppeteer was drawing near, faster than she had hoped and that it would ruin her plans. She said we couldn't speak of it—you know, it being part of the challenge.

"I think she told Lord von Voltaire because she knew he'd be a good pawn to keep things in her favor. I think she wanted him to know because it would make him act when the Puppeteer showed up. If he did try to tell you, which he did, she'd take him out completely. Why she didn't just keep him when we had our challenge, I can only imagine it was part of her sick mind games."

Wolfram took it in, straining to understand every sentence and putting them into the bigger picture. "I don't understand…"

Murata looked straight ahead, a slight sag in his shoulders. "Miss Maiden wants you at all costs, Lord von Bielefeld. In another time, giving Lord von Voltaire the powers she did would be foolish. Given that the Puppeteer had interfered though, Miss Maiden put her trust in him to get us out. What she said to him, did to him when she took him away, Lord von Voltaire won't specify."

Definitely feeling the bile rising, Wolfram dipped his head forward, staring at the bed sheets as he tried to make further sense of the details. "So…he helped us escape."

"We don't understand what the extent of the effects is on him," Conrad added gently, "He was very reluctant to use them, unsure if it would really work."

"What could he do? What did he do?" Wolfram looked up again, needing to pull answers out.

"He had an effect on the dolls. He could…control them, somewhat," Conrad didn't sound convinced that even he understood what had happened.

Wolfram was already getting up.

"Your Exce-"

"Where is he?" Wolfram overcame the dizziness of standing too fast and started heading out, hearing hurried footsteps behind him. He had to see Gwendel. He had to see Yuri.

"Wolfram!" Conrad was at his side in an instant. To Wolfram's slight surprise though, the brunette didn't grab his arm to stop him.

"I want to know what Miss Maiden told you," Wolfram said to Murata, not gracing him with even a glance over his shoulder. He was in a hallway now, a long one that told him this was most likely an inn. He could hear people, smell food, and feel the uneasiness of the unknown stuck in the air.

When the boy didn't answer him, Wolfram had the right mind to spin around and shake him again. He stopped that train of thought though when Conrad stepped in front of him and curled his hand around a doorknob.

Conrad gave him a look Wolfram couldn't decipher and touched him carefully on his shoulder. He opened the door before Wolfram could protest to the act. Inside, a wooden floorboard stretched into an expansive room. Back against the wall, sitting, was Gwendel with his eyes shut in concentration.

With a nudge, Conrad ushered Wolfram in and gave him a nod before he was already shutting the door.

Wolfram stared at the closed door, unsure what had just transpired. He turned carefully though, taking in his brother's state. He was dressed casually, his hair up again, and his lips were probably bruised—but with the dim lighting, Wolfram couldn't be sure.

"You should be in bed." Gwendel's voice made Wolfram tense the second time that day.

"Brother!" Wolfram rushed forward, stumbling a couple of times. He crouched beside him, taking in his condition more thoroughly. "Wha-"

"You should be in bed," the man said again, not opening his eyes until after he spoke. They were different, sunken in and half glazed.

"You did better." The other voice had Wolfram reaching for a weapon he didn't have at his hip. He whirled toward the dresser, seeing a doll straddling its edge. Beside it was what might have been a rock covered in a misty, dark substance. Wolfram finally remembered the doll after giving it a once over.

"V…Varick." Wolfram stood up, inching closer to the doll.

The doll seemed stiffer than the others, neck creaking as it tried to meet Wolfram's gaze. "I'm glad you're okay. Your King took me with you."

"Brother, what's going on?" Wolfram watched as Gwendel cracked his own neck, releasing a tense muscle.

"Training."

Wolfram gulped, unsure how to approach the subject. In the end, all he could say saw, "I saw Mother."

"Good. She was worried."

Wolfram took the opportunity. "About you too."

Finally, Gwendel looked at him and with that single glance, Wolfram could tell the man knew that he wasn't in the dark. "Does it bother you?"

Huffing, Wolfram repressed the urge to stomp his foot. "What? Miss Maiden—she used you! She took you from me, even now she's using the people I care about for some…some sick game of hers and it's all my-"

Wolfram forgot his rant, a large hand threading into his hair. With a light push, his head bumped into Gwendel's strong chest and for a second, Wolfram couldn't have been happier to hear his brother's heartbeat, strong and not at all abnormal.

"Wolfram," Gwendel didn't budge beyond the gesture but he didn't sound as grave as usual, "Are you a fool?"

The question was so serious that Wolfram pinched his lips together in thought. "Of course not," he mumbled, knowing that was the answer he should give.

"Then don't blame yourself."

Wolfram's eyelids felt ticklish so he rubbed them and left his hand to rest against Gwendel's chest.

"I don't regret what's happened if it meant getting His Highness to safety," Gwendel then added, quieter, "And you."

"Brother," Wolfram paused to savor the word and that Gwendel was very much standing strong, "What did she do to you?"

Gwendel dropped his hand and rested it on Wolfram's shoulder in a manner that made the blonde obediently raise his head. "Her Master is after you, Wolfram, to make his first living doll."

Wolfram stared. "What?"

Moving around him, Gwendel went to Lord Varick and picked up the doll. "Not just because of your looks, but because you are a strategic ploy for his declaration of war," he continued, settling the doll into the crook of one elbow, "Being the Demon King's fiancé and a demon of incredible magic, he'll use that to his advantage once he's taken you."

Wolfram fell silent.

Gwendel kept speaking though. "She gave me a small portion of her powers. To what extent," he looked down at the doll.

"We cannot tell," Lord Varick finished, "But it gives us an opportunity we cannot waste. I've been doing what I can to help Lord von Voltaire manipulate these powers."

At that, Wolfram regained some of his wits. "Does it hurt? To use the, um, powers?"

Lord Varick was unable to look as sympathetic as he felt. "It has adverse effects, I'm afraid."

"What? How so?" Panic grew in Wolfram's voice.

"Well," the doll trailed off, reluctant, and looked at Gwendel.

Wolfram clenched his hands together. "Don't you dare try to be silent now! Tell me this moment or-"

"Wolfram." Gwendel's hard tone startled the blonde.

Wolfram couldn't stop the pinched look in his face that always came when Gwendel spoke that way. "Brother…?"

Expression softening just a bit, Gwendel walked past Wolfram and opened the door ."You should see His Majesty. I'm sure he's awake by now."

Wolfram didn't get the chance to call out to him; the door shut with a loud click behind Gwendel and the doll he carried. For a moment, Wolfram thought he would come back. When he didn't, the blonde turned back to the room and saw the mist drift off the rock and vanish. He then remembered the mist being the kind back at the castle, a manifestation of the Puppeteer's powers.

The silence of the room overcame Wolfram, allowing his emotions to boil and memories to swarm. In the brief privacy his brother had granted him, Wolfram collapsed against a wall, slid down it, and buried his face into his hands.

He let himself cry.

**-x-X-x-**

When Wolfram had regained enough control, he left the room and had Conrad guide him to Yuri's temporary room.

Inside, Greta was there, clutching Yuri's hand.

"Greta." Wolfram's psychological weariness lifted at the sight of her.

"Wolfram!" Greta detached from Yuri and all but bounded into the blonde's arms, squeezing the air out of him.

Wolfram smiled despite his headache-from-crying, returning his affection in the gesture. "I'm so proud of you," he murmured against her temple, "You've been a brave girl, haven't you?"

"I'm Yuri and Wolfram's daughter," Greta said into his neck, hanging on tighter, "I missed you so much."

"We missed you too." Wolfram flicked his eyes to Yuri, who sat upright against a hill of pillows. The double black smiled at him and Wolfram couldn't resist returning it.

He pulled back and wiped at the tears collecting in the corner of Greta's eyes. Though he had hoped to speak to Yuri in peace, Wolfram didn't find the heart to ask her to leave.

Before he could scoop her up though, Greta was already speaking. "I'll go tell them to start making some food for you. I'll help make it," she insisted, squeezing Wolfram's hand. She bundled up her courage and released his hand, leaving the room with a wave to them both.

"She's really tough, isn't she?" Yuri met Wolfram's eyes, both understanding their daughter left to allow them privacy.

A sudden and unexpected wave of uneasiness came over Wolfram. He fidgeted and looked anywhere but Yuri's eyes for the time being. He was sure Yuri could tell he had been crying, even if it had only been a little. "How long have you been up?"

"I've been on and off for a while. I just woke up a few minutes ago."

Wolfram toed the ground. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

Though Wolfram wasn't looking, he could feel Yuri's smile growing. With a flick of his eyes, Wolfram found that smile and a pair of warm eyes.

"How about you?" Yuri gestured to the bed.

Wolfram obeyed, approaching with a shrug. "Fine, of course," he said and settled beside the bumps that Yuri's legs made under the blanket.

"You're worried about Gwendel, aren't you?"

Eyes wide, Wolfram searched Yuri's eyes. "You know?"

Yuri shook his head and offered a weak laugh. "No, not in full detail," he admitted and then added, more softly, "But it means we have to act soon. Even in my other form, I couldn't stop that man, the Puppeteer."

"The castle is poisoned with something. It's not your fault," Wolfram said, shuddering at the nausea he had overcome, "Probably a spell of some kind. Something in his magic repressed others'. But if Miss Maiden really did something to Gwendel and he can use some of that magic…"

Lost in thoughts, Wolfram didn't hear his words grow quiet. He stared at Yuri's hands, momentarily taken back to the memory of being held by them during their escape. It caused a train reaction, his memory reversing the events, heart reliving every instant since the lights had gone out during the ball. Great One, he hoped he wasn't going to cry again. That was the problem with crying: allow your emotions a foot and it takes a mile.

Yuri watched Wolfram's expression slacken, eyes glazing over. "Wolfram?" He reached out to touch the boy.

He didn't get far before Wolfram started speaking, startling him. "The first day Miss Maiden spoke to me, I was so entranced," he said, knowing he had to release some of this, "I remember going from shock, to disbelief, a little fear, and then captivation. I didn't realize it at the time, but she had me under her spell early on. Maybe a part of me knew it but didn't mind, considering how much comfort I took in speaking to her about things I couldn't with others…"

Shocked at the admission, Yuri lowered his hand and pressed his lips together. If he spoke now, he worried he would break whatever it was that let Wolfram offer himself like this.

"She would tell me grand stories," Wolfram continued, chuckling at the memory, "She told me a story about a beautiful doll that escaped her creator and fell into hands of many owners along the way. Some treated her poorly, some well, and always she could see their lives. One day she fell into the hands of a prince, who would forever be hers because he treasured her above all else. At last she had found happiness."

Wolfram exhaled slowly, no longer wondering if the story referred to Miss Maiden herself. It did. Gradually, he returned to reality and looked at Yuri. "I think she helped me get away," he confessed, grimacing.

"Wolfram?" Yuri frowned.

"I can't be certain but the more I think of it, I think she truly did. When I learned of what she did to Gwendel, it made me think more about it," Wolfram said, rubbing his hands together, "I cannot forgive what she did to Gwendel."

"But you think she really did help," Yuri offered.

Wolfram nodded and took in another long inhale. "She let everyone go, didn't she? I mean, Mother, Greta—they were all unharmed. Did she really let them go?"

"She may not be interested in her Master anymore then," Yuri added, resting a hand on Wolfram's arm, "Maybe she's not as evil as we thought. There might be good in her. You know, maybe she was set up to do all this."

Unable to resist, Wolfram chuckled crudely through his nose. "She's the lesser of the two evils, nothing more, Yuri."

"Wolfram…"

"How can you say that?" Wolfram pinned his fiancé with a glare as he stood up, "After what she's done to you, I can't forgive her! How can you be so easy to forgive what she's done, you wimp? Have you already forgotten the trauma she's put everyone through already?"

He wanted Yuri to snap back, to get animated, throw off the sheets and leap off the bed, anything, so long as he could see his own rage reflected in the double black's eyes. Fury never met him, just warmth, a deep warmth that borderlined sadness. Wolfram couldn't seethe at the expression and he suddenly felt ridiculous for lashing out.

Yuri lowered his eyes to the blankets. "Those dolls…"

"What of them?" Wolfram knew he sounded harsher than he intended.

"They had stories, pasts. Tragic ones. I can't condone the way they hurt others but is it fair for me to judge them as evil?"

Wolfram blanched. "What are you talking about?"

"I have a loving family. Two, really. I have people who love me on Earth and here in the Demon Kingdom. I have bad days too but I think having had love in my life made me understand what it meant to be sympathetic. I don't think those dolls," Yuri found Wolfram's eyes again, "I don't think they ever knew there could be another way, that they could be loved.

"That's why I can't be so mad at them. I pity them," he finished.

The statement, despite Wolfram's internal protests, had the blonde's anger fizzle to a weak flame inside his heart. Barking back at Yuri didn't seem like a possibility and Wolfram was tempted to humor his fiancé's revelation. Considering how furious he had just come across though, Wolfram didn't dare jump fences too soon. He crossed his arms and huffed loudly, turning his nose up and away from Yuri.

"Wolfram…"

The tone had become serious, even if only by a speck. Wolfram reluctantly met his King's face once more.

"Come here."

When Yuri patted the bed again, Wolfram unhooked his arms but didn't step closer, hesitant.

"That's an order, Wolfram."

Yuri's goofy smile was unbecoming of such an order. Regality aside, Wolfram rolled his eyes and found it much harder than he thought to cross the space until he was sitting again. There, Yuri alarmed him with another move; the double black reached out and embraced him.

"I was so happy when I learned everyone was okay," Yuri murmured against his hair, "But when I found out you hadn't woken up, I was scared."

As always, Yuri's hands felt warm against Wolfram's clothing. Tempted as he was to huff again and insult the other boy, Wolfram reacted unconsciously. He sank into the embrace, hooking his arms around Yuri. Their faces pressed against shoulders, both boys held on just a bit tighter, the mere gesture transcending anything their words could have expressed.

Wolfram eventually found himself returning Yuri's words. "I didn't know what he had done to you when I saw you up there. You didn't look alive at first."

Yuri tightened his hold in response. Even he couldn't articulate what had occurred. He couldn't remember the Puppeteer prior to the events in the throne room and that itself was a blurred projection in his mind.

"Yuri," Wolfram said, reaching into his heart to say more. When he would try to pull them out, words lodged halfway up, making Wolfram's mouth feel drier.

It seemed he didn't have to say much else though. Wolfram put his feelings into his acts—his fingers stroked Yuri's back, his other hand cupping Yuri's cheek. With a nudge, he had their foreheads resting against each other's again.

Yuri's face cleared off its usual unease at the close proximity. His eyes stayed soft and only the faint red in his cheeks told Wolfram he was a little uncomfortable.

_I love you_, Wolfram wanted to say, knowing it wouldn't do much to help Yuri sort out his feelings.

"We sure have been through a lot, huh?" Yuri's chuckle made Wolfram's stomach flutter.

Wolfram found his voice and said, "Is that all you can say, wimp?"

Yuri took the insult with a half smile. A small part of him wondered why he didn't feel so flustered. Well, he figured after everything they had gone through, it would be the opposite. As close as he felt to Wolfram and the others, this journey had proven to strengthen their bonds. Provided they got out with their lives, that is.

The bond was especially strong with Wolfram. Naming it was impossible, that much Yuri knew. So he tried to focus on the simple aspects. For instance, he felt less awkward at Wolfram's close proximity. Even now, he took comfort in the other boy, grateful even that he had Wolfram as his friend during all of this. And as scary as everything was regarding the dolls, Yuri couldn't fathom having let Wolfram endure it all alone.

Safe is also what Yuri felt. Warm too, but not in his skin. His chest, deep inside, felt warm, if that was possible. It'd ignite when he'd look at the blonde, see his face. Yuri's heart dropped as the evidence accumulated. Could it be…?

His wondering went cold. Warmth swelled in his chest again and it took him a moment to realize Wolfram had planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

Wolfram pressed into it, feeling he had a rare chance at it. He knew he had to confront Miss Maiden soon and when he did, Wolfram wasn't entirely sure he'd be back.

As that realization made his eyes burn, Wolfram retreated and prepared himself for disappointment. Yuri's eyes were big, one hand already touching his lips as if in shock. Wolfram didn't know if the boy was comparing their kisses to the assaults back in Miss Maiden's playhouse, but Wolfram could only hope Yuri didn't think they were somehow the same.

Yuri's hand lowered, his eyes still on Wolfram's face, unable to break away even if he wanted to. "Wolfram…"

Wolfram narrowed an eye at him and clenched his jaw to prevent his outcry. He wanted Yuri to be the first to say something.

He didn't get that though. Wolfram struggled with his impatience, just about giving up and scolding himself for his behavior, given the situation.

Yuri's hand wrapped around his own.

"Yuri?" Wolfram ogled at the display that was Yuri squeezing his hand.

"Thank you, Wolfram."

Not expecting that, Wolfram could only keep staring.

Yuri sensed the disbelief and grew self conscious again. "It's…um…"

Wolfram couldn't wait anymore—not like patience was his virtue. "I was told two boys together aren't as common on Earth as it is here," he supplied, hoping it would calm Yuri, though he rather have yelled at the boy.

It worked. Yuri's shoulders eased up. "Ah, yeah."

"Is it viewed badly?"

"N-Not exactly. Some people think it's bad but I think a lot more people are accepting of it, compared to a long time ago," Yuri said, speaking fast, "I mean, in Japan there's a history with um…guys and guys together..."

Wolfram didn't pay much mind to that. "Yuri."

His fiancé stopped rambling and bit his lower lip.

Wolfram sighed and squeezed Yuri's hand back. He focused, tried to imagine Conrad's tranquility as he grappled with steadying his emotions. Cornering Yuri tended to have bad results so he would try, at least once, to keep himself at bay. It came surprisingly easy when Wolfram said quietly, "Thank you too."

Yuri's face brightened. Anxiety melted off him, replaced with delight.

Their fingers shifted, threading, and even Wolfram couldn't help the new color rising to his cheeks. He didn't dare move or breathe hard, relishing in the time that passed with their hands interlocked.

"Wolfram?"

Wolfram didn't want to break the moment but he didn't have much choice. Yuri's hand pulled gently at his face and he met a sloppy, shy kiss. Wolfram didn't even have the luxury to comprehend it before Yuri was already pulling away, eyes down, face incredibly red.

Wolfram welcomed the tiny smile on his lips. Embarrassed though, he cleared his throat and looked away too. "You're the least majestic King I've ever seen," he muttered.

"Shut up," Yuri mumbled, shutting his eyes tightly. He only opened them when Wolfram's free hand rested on his arm. The touch was reassuring of many things. Yuri saw the determination etched in Wolfram, the tenacity to keep going until they overcame this hardship. Something Yuri couldn't place, or maybe was too frightful to, but it was equally reassuring and told Yuri that Wolfram wouldn't abandon him, ever.

It was a difficult insight for Yuri, to know deep down in the huddled part of his subconscious that he found Wolfram attracted as time progressed. Not just in looks. Wolfram had always been a pretty boy in his eyes, could even pass for a girl with the right attire. It was more of Wolfram being—well, Wolfram, that Yuri grew attached to.

True, the fire wielder was fit for fire: too passionate, impatient, stubborn, and prone to outbursts. Yuri knew though that he wasn't the only one who saw the sweet parts to Wolfram. Yuri had seen Wolfram grow. Wolfram could keep his tongue in check at appropriate times and instead of insult him, the blonde could soften around the eyes and simply touch Yuri in a sympathetic gesture.

Seeing Greta's love blossom for Wolfram and vice versa helped Yuri to see what a family they had really become. And as fiercely loyal as Wolfram was to him, Yuri noticed that even the way they walked together change. Before, Wolfram was more like a mean coach looming over Yuri, waiting to scold him and always hot on his heels. Now, they could walk in tandem, sometimes Wolfram lingering behind without his jealousy suffocating Yuri.

And when Wolfram smiled, that sweet, almost shy smile, Yuri always wanted to grin. When they would pick flowers with Greta, Wolfram would always show that smile for an exceptional piece of a flower. The boy appreciated beauty in all forms despite what anyone else would say. When he'd share that smile with Yuri, the double black felt he could stay in that moment for a long time.

The memories and retrospect on Wolfram made Yuri's smile drop, though it stayed in his eyes. A part of him felt anxious, like a kid at his first day at a new school. He was starting to really like Wolfram, more so than he could have ever imagined. He had struggled with it for so long, downright rejected it in the beginning. It was disturbing to have a different feeling now come over him, smack him in the face. Change was always a bit scary though, he thought.

He wondered if Wolfram had felt that way about him at some point. But he couldn't bring himself to ask, his face too hot and tongue feeling twice its normal size. He had been staring at Wolfram the entire time and the blonde at him.

All his emotions agitated his stomach, making its hungry growl that much louder.

Yuri couldn't blush harder. "Um, sorry…"

"If we don't get food in you, you'll become more of a wimp, wimp." Wolfram's eyes were smiling though they rolled in slight annoyance.

The sound of pans rattling sounded loudly now to them. Reality settled back in, the outside world sparing no sympathy for them. In some ways they took the excuse to avoid further embarrassment on either part.

Wolfram did a once over on Yuri, making sure the boy was really okay as the King put on his boots and slipped on a jacket after a quick wash up. They met eyes, preparing to mingle back in with everyone else, but before they did, Yuri took Wolfram's arm. Standing side by side, Yuri realized he had taken a few centimeters lead over Wolfram in height. And with that sudden awareness, the double black bottled up his courage and leaned over to confirm what had been going on in his head.

Wolfram met him half way, shyly actually, despite how much his skin tickled. They kissed, a brief mingle of their lips. There wasn't time for any sloppy experimentation but Yuri took it for everything it was and might be. It might have been a symbolic expression of his sanity heading for the hills but the double black had a deep thought that it was anything but. It was a kiss, with Wolfram, and it wasn't bad. His stomach didn't turn, though it jumped a foot, and his conscience didn't feel disgusted but rather, felt like it sighed as if it was supposed to be this way now.

Boy or girl, Wolfram had become someone Yuri trusted his life to. It seemed he was in the direction to doing the same thing with his love.

But, for now, the world didn't care. It was in peril and both boys shared a knowing expression after the kiss.

The Puppeteer was waiting for them.

**-x-X-x-**

Reuniting with everyone was as uncomfortable and relieving as Wolfram expected. Yuri's surprising expression made him even more nervous, almost giddy. The severity of the situation was the only thing that brought his head from getting stuck in the clouds.

Seeing everyone assured him yet again that all was indeed accounted for and more or less alright. One of the perks for living a long time meant that there was a lot more time to heal what psychological damage had been taken. War also bred tough beings, both human and demon, making their interactions less riddled with trauma. It definitely eased the tension for Wolfram.

Conrad, no surprise, had been waiting outside of Yuri's door. Being the first person they ran into, Yuri had felt more at ease, always finding refuge in his godfather's calm demeanor and welcoming smile. Everyone else was downstairs and both Yuri and Wolfram were reluctant to take the last descending steps into the foyer of incoming stares.

Greta's proud grin made it that much easier. Her meal was ready and her declaration broke any trance that would have otherwise weighed down on the group. Lady Celi and the owner of the inn did their part to help too, settling everyone down for a meal together, despite what little appetite anyone had.

And so they ate together, some nibbling, others filling up for two stomachs. Even with Greta's presence at the table, the owner of the inn and a few soldiers filtering in and out reported on the situation. It wasn't anything new to Wolfram and Yuri but they listened nonetheless.

Whatever magic had taken over the castle extended over the skies still, stuck like a bad omen. The injured were tended to and the flanks of soldiers didn't stray from their posts. Luckily, there had been no further movement from any enemy, doll or not, since The Demon King's arrival, a respite everyone took gratefully.

As comforting as that news was, Wolfram wasn't all that excited. Part of him had hoped that more intelligence would have been acquired, anything that could supply them clues to what was next.

He knew there was someone at the table that could offer more insight but it was currently plopped on the table like an accessory and with Greta around, Wolfram knew he wouldn't get anywhere for a while. Despite his impatience, he could put it aside for Greta's sake and savored the time with her, listening to how strong she had been during the commotion.

But the time came when they had to speak at last. Lady Celi shared a loving expression with her sons before taking the initiative to remove herself and Greta from the group, insisting they go out to the bakery to work on some dessert; Wolfram knew how hard it must have been on his mother, leaving when she herself wanted information. The only person who stayed that was not part of the original group was Yosak.

As soon as they were alone, the air felt heavy again.

Murata leaned forward, propped his elbows onto the table, and laced his fingers. He broke the silence with, "We need Miss Maiden's help."

"WHAT?" Wolfram stood, shoving the chair back with the force of the act.

"Lord von Bielefeld," Murata interrupted, casting a serious look over the table, "We may stand a chance against the Puppeteer but we have only one chance. If we go in blindly, that chance is gone."

Wolfram made fists against the table, teeth grinding. "You," he spat to the doll, "What do you know?"

Lord Varick barely moved, save for little tweaks in his neck. "I believe His Excellency is right," he said through unmoving, painted lips.

"We've been trying all sorts of things," Yosak interjected, using his fingers to count off, "We've tried directly approaching the castle, tried magic and nonmagic users alike. That place is pretty dangerous to get close to."

"Where's Miss Maiden?" Yuri asked the doll, "What's happened to her?"

"She's inside the castle, but not for long. When we were captured, I knew the Puppeteer would soon make an example of her."

Despite his hatred of her, Wolfram grew sick at the thought. "Example? Surely not…"

"It's as you assume."

Murata nodded in understanding and glanced at Gwendel. "Lord Varick agrees that Lord von Voltaire's newly acquired powers won't suffice. However…"

"How can you put trust in her so easily?" Wolfram put as much bite into it as possible.

Conrad tried to console his younger brother by removing the hard edge his face had been holding the last few hours. "As hesitant as I am, Wolfram, we can't ignore that it was her that helped us escape, in more ways than one. She also released everyone without further harming them. It's something to think about."

By the tone, Wolfram knew Conrad had suspected Miss Maiden had been the cause of Wolfram's own release. The blonde bit his tongue and debated what had sent them all to go mad and eager for that wretched doll's help.

"Wolfram," Lord Varick started again, waiting until the blonde looked at him, "I know Miss Maiden well enough to say that she's our fastest method of stopping the Puppeteer. He'll enslave your country, experiment on your people…"

"You know this?" Yuri asked, curious as to Lord Varick's own story. Surely he had one like the others, didn't he?

"Yes, Your Highness. He's long spoke of it."

Yosak hummed and rubbed his chin. "If I recall, you told us how that Miss Maiden doll had gone missing and because of her, he was able to take a big step in his," he waved dismissively, "world domination attempt. Not only that, but from what I learned, she knew of his plans too. Why would she tell him to come if, in the end, she was interested in keeping His Excellency here to himself?"

With a final gesture to Wolfram, Yosak planted both hands on his hips and waited.

Lord Varick was silent a moment before he spoke again. "I was a doll in this body," he began, creaking as his stiff arms rose, "and when Miss Maiden called to our Master, he put me in the body you saw to help her execute his plans. He had other things to tie up back home in the meantime. But when I arrived, Miss Maiden offered me an alternative proposition after she had done that to me."

Wolfram could only imagine that 'that' referred to the man's body turning to ruin after his assassination attempt on a certain ex-Prince.

"You mean, that's why you became our guide in the playhouse?" asked Yuri, repressing as many memories as he could.

"Yes, that would be why. You see, the body I was in was temporary. It was nothing more than a large version of a small doll that takes much effort to craft. In reality, I wanted nothing of it," Lord Varick looked at Wolfram, "I had hoped that by taking your life, Master would release me from my binds. I'm sorry for that."

Wolfram paled but didn't respond to the apology.

The doll continued nonetheless. "However, Miss Maiden told me of her intentions. I knew then she planned to use the powers Master was filtering to her to keep you and ultimately vanish with you before he could know what had happened. In return, she'd take me with her and promised me freedom."

"You're a prisoner?" Conrad raised both eyebrows.

Lord Varick's giggle disturbed the tension in the air. "You're all quite silly to think we dolls are truly happy with our Master. Some, yes. The rest are tools, brainwashed in his mock kindness. He's a cruel man inside. I wanted freedom and Miss Maiden would give to me. And yet…"

His voice trailed off a moment, leaving the group in sickening anticipation. There was effort in the way the doll moved, trying to look at Yuri and Conrad.

"After what happened in the doll's house," he said as solemnly as a doll could, "I realized I could not take someone precious away from you all, especially Your Highness. The kindness you've shown despite everything has made me change my outlook. I don't want Wolfram to be anyone's puppet like I was. And so, that's why I tried to reason with Miss Maiden at the end, beg for her help. I knew that Master was approaching much faster than she had planned and couldn't handle him alone."

"If she was interested in Wolfram, why didn't she take him to begin with?" Conrad asked, flicking a glance at the blonde. His heart clenched at how far away his brother seemed from across the table.

"She's still a doll, Lord Weller. Her powers would eventually vanish when she escaped from our Master and then, Wolfram would be able to escape her. The sick games she played were nothing more than mind games to break you, Wolfram. Miss Maiden and we dolls know much about it. We know how someone becomes dependant on someone, even if that person abused them."

Beneath the table, Yuri sought Wolfram's hand and felt at ease when the blonde, despite the wince in his face, squeezed back. Now Yuri knew that the dolls were unlike criminals and more like victims than anything else.

"Your Master then," Yuri started, unsure how to proceed.

Lord Varick seemed to understood though and tried to pull his lips into a smile. "A user, abuser, a madman with amazing manipulative powers. Combined with his gift for magic and he's a fearsome opponent."

Gwendel, who had otherwise taken to sinking back in his seat with his arms crossed, finally opened his closed eyes. "He's planning to use live hosts to put the dolls' souls into. Live dolls."

"Brother." Wolfram wasn't granted a look from Gwendel. He thought about the effects of Miss Maiden's magic on his brother and had to stop short to prevent his stomach from taking a turn for the worst.

"Yes," Lord Varick said, "For my efforts, I would be one of the first to gain a body, specifically Lord Weller's."

The others stole a look to the brunette.

Conrad grew tense around the eyes and said, "Yosak."

The spy understood the silent command. "The town within the walls itself can be infiltrated. However, every time we've gone, it's been plagued with a bunch of those creepy dolls. Since His Majesty scared them off though, we aren't sure how many have stayed but I take it that most ran back into the castle itself."

"Miss Maiden's execution must take place there then. Master will surely want you to see what has happened to her and what will become of her."

"Lord Varick believes that his Master is unaware of Gwendel's abilities. It may be the perfect time to take Miss Maiden," Murata said, unlacing his fingers at last.

"And if she betrays us?" Conrad pressed.

Lord Varick giggled again. "You can use magic out here. But I assure you that in Miss Maiden's current state, betrayal isn't an option for her."

The enigmatic words sank in with Wolfram. He removed his hand from Yuri's, needing to clench his palms together in thought, or else ignite something out of sheer frustration. He hated Miss Maiden, feeling repulsed at how she used him, and yet he was faced with the reality of having to rely on her and Lord Varick to stop this madness.

"We'll need Miss Maiden anyway to eventually remove the hex on Lord von Voltaire," Murata advised, looking directly at Wolfram as he said it.

It was enough to convince Wolfram then. He'd force the doll to undo what she did to Gwendel and seek his retribution. Somehow.

A frantic sound of metal clanking and hurried footsteps put them all on alert. The owner of the inn and a soldier rushed through the front door, the inn woman with an apologetic look for disrupting.

"What is it?" Yosak asked of the soldier as his eyes narrowed.

"Come take a look, sir! A doll!"

The woman nodded eagerly and pointed outside.

Rushing, they followed the soldier out. For a moment, Wolfram welcomed the fresh air, but it fell quickly at how stale it felt in his lungs. Most of the town was blessed with the sun's shine but a part of it was becoming victim to the shadows of the darkening sky. The soldier led them to the darker part of town, where less people congregated and plenty of soldiers were stationed.

Many were on alert, weapons drawn and bodies poised for battle.

In the distance, Wolfram made her out, a desolate speck among the expanse of grassy hills. She stumbled toward them, her tattered hair tangling with each bully of a breeze that had her falling to her knees more than once. The closer she got, they made out the pitiful state of her body. Her dress was charred, the ribbon in the back unraveled and getting lost in the wind at one point.

Her body squeaked and groaned. Wolfram inhaled sharply when he saw that half of her face was caved in, shattered in on itself. The other side was cracked and Wolfram remembered her now to be one of the dolls that he had seen go up in flames at the end of Miss Maiden's game.

"Your Highness, stay back," Conrad stated, drawing out his blade and nudging his godson back, "Yosak."

"Got it," the spy replied, already holding Yuri by the arm.

"Hey, wait! She looks hurt!" Yuri yanked, staring at the doll as she ignored the warnings of the soldiers.

"Perhaps it's a trap," Lord Varick said, unconvincingly, from where he sat in Gwendel's arms.

"Don't hurt her! That's an order!" Yuri tried to pull free again, unsure the others would do as he said.

"We have to prioritize your safety, Your Majesty!" one soldier shot back.

Among the escalating commotion, Gwendel stepped forward, breaching the line of soldiers.

"Lord von Voltaire!"

"Brother!" Wolfram made to rush after him but found himself jerked back by Conrad's strong hand, "Conrart, let go!"

Gwendel ignored the shouting, instead staring directly at the approaching doll with his usual hard look. He shifted Lord Varick into one arm and stretched his hand out in front of him.

The doll stopped, head jerking to see the looming man. She whispered through broken lips, "A message from Master."

"Speak," Gwendel demanded, keeping his hand at the same level. He wasn't sure the extent of her powers or what she would do, but at the least he knew he and Lord Varick were the best line of defense, as ill as it made him feel to have to use his new talents.

The doll didn't reveal malice though. She looked tired, the life in her poor eye a step away from diving off a ledge and dying. Despite it, she relayed the poem.

"Her name was Miss Maiden

She left the Maker's side,

Despite the life He gave her,

At dawn He'll skin her hide…"

The doll paused, her little breath coming in huffs. She dropped to her knees, resting her hands on the grass though she could not feel its soft texture. Again, she spoke to finish her message.

"Her name was Miss Maiden

A prince she did adore

But now he'll be His doll

As the new King wages war."

Spent, the small body collapsed to her side, her porcelain skin flaking off. Brittle pieces broke off, first in small doses, and then in large, decayed clumps that fell inward, leaving holes in her body.

"She'll be gone soon," Lord Varick said, "But we know tomorrow is our day now."

Gwendel grunted, hearing the others' footsteps approaching. He lowered his arm now that the threat was over.

Conrad came first, sheathing his blade as he took in the sight of the dying doll. His heart ached for her as much as he knew he would have killed her had he no other choice.

"No!" Yuri was already crouching beside her, his eyes wide and threatened by tears. Yosak stood beside him but politely let the King mourn the doll.

Though her voice had been weak, they had all heard the poem ring out like a wind chime. Wolfram shivered as he finally came up to stand beside Gwendel. He swallowed hard and then shared the space with Yuri, getting on his knees despite the look cautious look Conrad gave him.

"She's really dying," Yuri murmured. He reached out, jerked his hand free when Yosak grabbed it, and rested it on her dirty head, "I'm sorry you had to go through this."

The doll made a little sound, surprising them. It sounded like a choked cry, but they couldn't confirm it. She couldn't cry.

A tiny, shattered hand came to lie over Yuri's, but it disintegrated before it ever made the journey. Her body collapsed into complete ash and a dark mist leaked from her body. It coiled into itself, as if in agony, and erupted with a strangled pop.

Gwendel tensed and bit on his tongue to stifle a shout.

"Brother!" Wolfram was already turning at the sound, seeing the pain creeping into Gwendel's eyes.

"He'll be fine," Lord Varisk said, "We felt her death. It's a sign that we're all connected to my Master's powers."

Murata, who had been silently observing, said softly, "That's why you can tell Miss Maiden's location."

"Yes, but when she went missing, she purposely concealed herself. If she had died, we would have felt it though."

Before silence could overwhelm them, Conrad addressed Yosak. "Prepare troops for tomorrow. We'll have to be ready for anything."

It was all Wolfram remembered hearing about preparations. He stayed beside Yuri, shoulder by shoulder, taking in the sight of the breeze picking up the ashes in waves, carrying them off to what he hoped was a better place.

"It's not fair," Yuri said below a breath.

Wolfram put one hand on his back. "Yuri…"

"Fair or not, we have to stop them, Shibuya." Murata kneeled beside them, offering his respects to appease Yuri more than anything else. "The Puppeteer will make a big move tomorrow and try to take your place as King. We have to be ready.

Yuri clenched his fists on his knees. "I'm going to find a way. I'm going to save those dolls and stop the Puppeteer without any more casualties."

Silently, Wolfram accepted Yuri's hand again, unaware if anyone was watching. He could feel Yuri's frustration in how his fingers twitched.

All the while, Wolfram didn't have the heart to tell him that somehow he knew they wouldn't succeed so easily.

_Miss Maiden…_

**-x-X-x-**

Miss Maiden fully awoke in her prison by a tingle in her mind. She couldn't recall when she had blearily awoken before, but remembered vague images of what had occurred each time. In a haze, the first thoughts that came to her were that her Prince had escaped with her aid. That alone pulled at her lips.

Lips. She felt them: they were wider, fuller. Then, she remembered awakening to a tingle, something she never experienced for the many years she spent as a porcelain commodity.

Sobered, she inhaled hard, feeling her lungs struggling to expand. The pain preceded the panic coursing through her very real veins. She could turn her neck with effort, her eyes burned and her lids felt heavy. She saw herself incased in a glass reeking of potent magic, undoubtedly to keep her confined. She could barely detect the fuzzy movements of dolls outside.

Then she could feel. Her long hair tickled her bare, cold arms. Stiff as they were, she was still able to raise her slender arms and brought her soft hands to her face. She pushed her nails into her skin, feeling the tinge of pain. She touched her lips, her hair, lowered them to her small breasts, down the silk of the nightgown she was in.

Her eyes couldn't widen much but she inhaled again, taking in panic gulps of air.

_No,_ she thought, unable to trust the vocal chords lining her neck. _Not this body again…_

Her arms wrapped around her and she dipped her head into her chest. For the first time in centuries, she felt tears trying to push out her eyes.

_Save me, my Prince…_

**-x-X-x-…TBC…-x-X-x-**

Yuri isn't a wimp all the time! Of course he could come to have a crush on Wolfram, hehe.

Poor Gwendel. I think I put heavy burdens on him often. He's a good tank, he can handle it. /hugs him

Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed. Leave your thoughts if you get the chance!


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